Breaking Barriers, Breaking Time
by A Fallen Angel
Summary: ** Chapter 8 fixed** What happens when the GW boys find themselves with a mysterious letter ... delivered by Owl Post ? Yaoi: 1x2x1 / 3x4x3 , Draco/Harry
1. Prologue

Ripples in Time - Prologue

By Fallen Angel 

Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing or the Gundam Pilots (although I wish I did, I could use the money) however Sunrise and Bandai own them. I also don't own Harry Potter or any of those droolworthy characters, those belong to J.K.Rowling

Warnings: This is a crossover. Which means I am taking two series that have nothing to do with each other and blending them together. I have tried to make everything and everyone stay as canon-like as possible. However it is not always possible to do that, so please be warned there may be some *slight* OOC-ness. 

Also this fic will remain rated R for most of the chapters. I may add lemons scenes between any or all of the main pairings but those will be side scenes that you can skip if you do not want to read lemons. The R rating will mostly be for Bad language and sexually suggestive scenes.

Pairings: 1x2/2x1 and 3x4/4x3 will be already established relationships; Harry&Draco will be a budding relationship.

Authors notes: I realize the prologue is short but I make up for it in Chapter 1 (which is finished but unedited and also 10 pages long ^__^;;) I hope to have Chapter 1 out later this evening, just as soon as one of my beta's shows up to beta it. Chapter 2 is not yet written but well planned out and it should be out I am *hoping* by Tues. or Weds. at the latest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prologue

________________

"The lightning has power to strike out the dark, but others must defend it from the creatures born of the night"

"Is that so Firenze?"

"The Moon's children give the Earth peace."

"Intriguing …"

"Time is but a ripple in space, what will happen when worlds collide?"

"Hmmm... a puzzle indeed."

_____________________


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

________________

Quatre stepped out onto the balcony from his office.  Located on the top floor of the 150-story building owned by Winner Enterprises--by far the largest building in the sector and indeed the entire colony-- it gave an unobstructed view as far as the eye could see of the entire colony.  He stared up at the artificially clear sky, flawed only by its absolute perfection.  Rain was never forecast, only scheduled.  Day became night with the flick of an automated switch.  So to say Quatre stepped outside for a breath of fresh air would be completely false, for, as with everything else, the air was neither fresh nor natural.  No, Quatre stepped outside simply to escape the confines of his office.

Oh sure, he may have wanted some fresh air, who wouldn't?  But wishing for things that can't be is no way to live your life.  So instead he stood outside and enjoyed the heat and light reflected off the artificial sky and mentally prepared himself for his next meeting.  

Or that's what he would have done had an owl not flown down and landed right in front of him on the balcony railing.  That in of itself was enough to shake Quatre from his meditation, but that was not the only thing about the situation that struck Quatre as odd.  This was a real live bird in a place where very few things truly natural could or would ever live.

"Quatre stared at the bird and was quite sure it stared back with a look that plainly stated, 'What are *you* staring at?'  Quatre blinked, he could feel the bird becoming impatient with him.  And since when did birds become impatient?

The large snowy bird hooted in quite an annoyed tone and stuck out its left leg.

Quatre's eyes traveled down to the bird's limb where he now could obviously see had an envelope attached.  The bird seemed to convey that he very much wanted the envelope removed.  Quatre stared the bird for a few minutes as he let it sink in exactly how well the bird seemed to communicate.  At this point, Quatre got the feeling that the bird was assessing his intelligence and was finding it somewhere well below average.

He carefully reached out and untied the envelope from the owl's leg, not wanting to hurt what was, undoubtedly, an extremely rare animal.  He turned the envelope over in his hand and read the script on the front.

                        Mr. Quatre Raberba Winner

                        Balcony, 150th floor

                        Winner Enterprises

                        Colony X188991, L4, 198 A.C.  [After Colony]

Quatre looked up at the owl.  

It stared blankly back at him.

Quatre looked at the writing on the envelope again.  

He looked back at the owl who was now cocking its head to the side.

He looked back at the envelope.

Quatre looked back up at the owl again only to see a look that clearly said, "What are you waiting for?  Open it.'

So he did.

_~~~~~~~~~_

_Dear Mr. Winner,_

_We are pleased to inform you have been selected to participate in an 'Elective Studies' course now being offered at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogsmeade, England, 1997 O.E.C.  [Old Earth Calendar]_

_Along with letter we have sent you an acceptance gift.  If you choose not to enroll please return this letter and the gift to Einstein (the owl) and we will not bother you again._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster_

_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards_

_~~~~~~~~~_

Quatre looked up from the letter, and, sure enough on the right leg of the owl was a small package, just the right size to fit comfortably in his hand.  Surely it wouldn't hurt just to see what was in the box?

^__^__^__^__^__^__^__^

Thrust.  Turn.  Kick.  Crouch.  Strike.  Pivot.  Advance.  Duck.  Repeat.

Wufei repeated the exercises fourteen more times before stopping.  He walked over to the red blanket he had laid out earlier in the grass and sat cross-legged in the center of it.  He was on the highest hill in the center of a very large, grassy clearing.  From where he sat he could take in all that was around him and let it flow through him and bring him to a deeper calm.

Much to the surprise of his fellow pilots, Wufei was quite content with his decision to live on earth.  He found a home very near where his ancient ancestors were rumored to have once lived.  He could feel their spirits around him and knew that they were also content with his decision.

He enjoyed these peaceful moments now.  Much of his work with Preventers kept his memories of the war from fading away.  This was good, because it also reminded him not to repeat his own past mistakes.  But here on the undisturbed hillside, he could let himself be at peace.  The wind blew along the grassy floor carrying the calming scent of violets and dandelions.  Birds chirped quietly from the woods that surrounded the edge of the vast clearing.

And at that moment, breaking through the calm was a very loud, obnoxious screeching.

Wufei opened his eyes to look straight into the face of one very annoyed looking owl.  One very ugly, very annoyed looking owl.

The owl glared.

"Go away."  Wufei stated, waving his hand in an equally annoyed dismissal.  That caused the owl to let out another earsplitting screech and flap its wings quite animatedly.

"Get away from here you idiot bird!"  Wufei told the bird, menacingly.  This was apparently the wrong thing to say, as the bird was now bouncing and screeching as it made its way towards Wufei with a flurry of claws and feathers.  Wufei made a quick, instinctive strike with his hand in order to defend against the owl's oncoming claws.  Unfortunately he succeeded, knocking the bird out of the air and directly into his lap.

Trying to pry the furious ball of flapping wings and claws off himself, Wufei grabbed on what felt like a small package and some very thick paper.  With a calculated tug he removed them from the demonic fowl which promptly flew off his lap and landed several feet away, still glaring.

He looked down at the objects in his hands.  One was a small wrapped package and the other appeared to be a letter.  On the letter it very clearly stated:

                        Chang Wufei

                        Red Blanket, Highest Hill

                        Chang Family Ancestral Grounds

                        Old China, Earth, 198 A.C.  [After Colony]

He looked over at the bird, which was still staring at him, and giving an annoyed 'hoot' every now and again.

With a great deal of caution he opened the letter.

_~~~~~~~~~_

_Mr. Chang,_

_We are pleased to inform that you have been selected to participate in an 'Elective Studies' course now being offered at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogsmeade, England, 1997 O.E.C.  [Old Earth Calendar]_

_Along with this letter we have sent you an acceptance gift.  If you choose not to enroll please return the letter and gift to Brutus (the owl) and we will not bother you again._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster_

_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards_

_~~~~~~~~~_

Wufei looked up from the letter and back at Brutus who was now preening himself, "Brutus?"  Wufei asked with a mixture of sarcasm and disbelief.  "This has to be one of Maxwell's sick jokes."

He looked at the box he had yet to open.  He picked it up and looked for some type of sign that would reveal what calamity lay inside.  He weighed the pros and cons of opening it here or taking it back to the house.  Knowing Maxwell it was probably set to make a very large mess.

'Might as well open it here…'  Wufei thought to himself with resignation.  'How bad could it be?'

^__^__^__^__^__^__^__^

Trowa sat at a lone table on the patio of a small coffee house.  He often sat in this particular spot on his breaks, since the coffee shop was part of the large bookstore in which he worked.  He found it relaxing to sit outside with a book and cup of coffee and think about nothing except the great adventures each book took him on.  Some might find it surprising a Gundam pilot could so easily enjoy a fiction novel whose passages were far less exciting than his own for too recent personal history.  However, Trowa enjoyed the chance to escape the memories of his sordid past for a while and lose himself instead in fantasy world's adventure for a time.  Which was, in fact, why he choose to work in a bookstore.  That, and it kept him conveniently close to his boyfriend.

Indeed, it was exactly the right job for him

So, he was quite content to sit on the patio with his book and coffee and let life quietly pass him by.  People came and went, their chatter filling the air with tell tale signs of their world moving on.  A few stray cats would find Trowa and weave their way between the chair legs and his own long, lanky legs, knowing he was always good for a small treat.

So, when a small owl swooped down from the sky and perched atop his book, disrupting this tranquil setting, he was, to say the least, a bit startled.  He was doubly surprised, as there were *no* birds living on L4, or any other Space Colony, for that matter.  Birds were too hazardous to the intricate workings of the Space Colonies.  Their flying and nesting could easily upset the mechanical workings of the colonies weather and lighting systems.  It was because of this that anti-bird laws were strictly monitored and enforced.

Trowa stared with no small amount of curiosity at the bird; it was quite small compared to pictures of barn and snowy owls he had seen, just barely the size of the full-grown falcon he had once seen on Earth.  It actually looked very similar to that falcon, with colorings of dark browns and muted grays, and very sharp, intelligent eyes.  It was hard to picture such a fiercely regal looking creature as a colony-wide hazard.

Reaching into a pocket, Trowa pulled out some cracker he usually gave to the stray cats, and offered it to the small fowl.  The bird eagerly accepted, obviously famished from whatever trek it was on.  "Now, what is a fine creature such as yourself doing here?"  Trowa quietly asked the diminutive bird of prey.

Delighted with such lavish compliments, the owl hooted happily as it stuck its left leg out.  Carefully tied to his leg was a cream colored envelope.

"Well, I will need to put my book down if you expect me to take that off," Trowa explained to the bird, just as he would to anyone else.

The bird jumped down to the table and again held out its leg for Trowa.  Trowa placed his book on the table beside the owl and then gently untied the envelope.  Once the envelope was free, Trowa eyed the writing on it.

                        Mr. Trowa Barton

                        Patio table farthest from view

                        Full Moon Coffee House

                        Colony X188991, L4, 198 A.C.  [After Colony]

By now, Trowa was quite baffled.  Who, on Earth, would send him a letter by owl?  Who , *anywhere*, would send *anyone* a letter by owl?  He looked up at the owl as if asking what he should do next.  And the owl, being ever so understanding, hooted softly at him.

"Well I suppose that means I should open it and see. You don't look like the type of bird to deliver anything dangerous."

The owl hooted proudly at such a praising assessment of his character, while Trowa carefully opened the letter and read.

_~~~~~~~~~_

_Mr. Barton,_

_We are pleased to inform you have been selected to participate in an 'Elective Studies' course now being offered at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogsmeade, England, 1997 O.E.C.  [Old Earth Calendar]_

_Along with the letter we have sent you an acceptance gift.  If you choose not to enroll please return this letter and the gift to Socrates (the owl) and we will not bother you again._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster_

_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards_

_~~~~~~~~~_

Trowa looked up at the owl assessing, as if trying to validate the unbelievably of the letter with the undeniable proof of the bird in front of him.

"Well, I might as well have a look at this acceptance gift. Come here, and let me have a look."

The owl seemed to nod his head in approval as he stuck out his other leg in order to present the small package.

^__^__^__^__^__^__^__^

"Oh for cripes sake Heero!!!  Quit playing with my hair!  I'm trying to wallow in the afterglow here!"

Duo moved restlessly amongst the sea of sheets in search of a still cool corner of linen to place against his sweat-sheened skin.  His hair was free of its notorious braid and instead circled his head like waves of golden chestnut fire.  Fire that was currently being tugged on. 

Duo swatted a hand absently behind him, not really wanting to move more than necessary, to knock away Heero's fondling hands.  He missed, but the annoying tugs seemed to have stopped.  

He lay quietly in the bed he shared with Heero, enjoying the warm ripple of pleasure that seemed to still vibrate through his blood.  He was perfectly content to stay here for a very long---'OW!'

"Fuck me Heero! That HURT!  What the hell are you doing?"  Duo exclaimed with no small amount of irritation as he whipped his head around to glare at his lover.  Only to look straight into the eyes of one very large owl.

"Holy Mother of FUCK!"  Duo shrieked as he attempted to scramble backwards away from the freakish apparition.  However, the once docile sheets now appeared to have other ideas and were holding him captive.  Duo elected to roll away in an effort to loose the sheets and put more distance between him and the massive bird, only to remember belatedly that he was already near the edge of the bed from his earlier quest for cooler sheets.  He landed with a 'thud' on the floor.  At that point, the sheets deemed it time to release him.  Damn sheets.

The owl, however, apparently had other plans and flapped over to land on right on top of Duo's tangled nest of hair.

"Owowowowow!  Fucking bird! Get off me!"  Duo howled in pain as the owl's talons scratched his scalp.  The owl simply  ignored his pleas and flapped his wings furiously, which both lightened the load on Duo's head and allowed him to stick his letter-clad leg in Duo's face.

"What the hell?!?"  Duo grabbed the leg and yanked the letter off.  The owl immediately took leave of Duo's head but not before dropping a small package into Duo's lap.  Much to Duo's disgust the owl only went as far at the dresser before landing and turning to look back at Duo pointedly.

Heero chose that moment to walk back into the bedroom, with a towel hung loosely around his waist and still damp, obviously straight from taking a shower.  He looked questioningly at the disheveled pile of sheets and naked boyfriend that was on the floor, "Duo?"

"Don't look at me!  That demonic bird just assaulted me!"  Duo wailed, pointing furiously at the large bird on the dresser, except now there were two birds.   Now, sitting next to the large owl, in obvious discomfort, was a much smaller owl.  The objects tied to the owl's feet were just barely smaller than the owl itself.  It was almost comical to watch the bird struggle just to stay upright against the obvious burden.  Heero calmly walked over to the small bird and removed the letter and package.  He looked down at the first object, a cream colored envelope, and the other a small plainly wrapped box.  On the envelope he could clearly read the writing.

                        Mr. Heero Yuy

                        Shared bedroom with Mr. Duo Maxwell

                        Undisclosed location

                        Colony X988542, L1, 197 A.C.  [After Colony]

Duo at the very same moment was reading the letter he had been assaulted with.

                        Mr. Duo Maxwell

                        Shared bedroom with Mr. Heero Yuy

                        Undisclosed location

                        Colony X988542, L1, 197 A.C.  [After Colony]

"It's for me!"  Duo exclaimed, ignoring the letter and quickly ripping the paper off the box.  He lifted the lid and peered inside.  "Oooooh Heero!  Look!   Look at this!"  he said as he reached inside the box.

"BAKA!" Heero shouted reaching out for Duo's hand to knock it away.

________________


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

________________

Quatre studied the box intently.  He was fighting his childish impulse to tear it open and see what was inside.  Really fighting.   However, years of war had taught him the need for caution.  Turning the box over in his hand, he could find no indication the box had been tampered with or rigged for detonation.  Some might have found that reassuring. Quatre didn't.

"Sorry Einstein, I can't be too careful.  You might as well come with me."  Quatre frowned to himself as he said that.  Since when did he talk to birds?  Trowa was really beginning to rub off on him, or he was even more crazy than anyone had ever given him credit for.

Quatre chuckled at the self-deprecating joke as Einstein flew over and landed on his shoulder.  "Going to join me then?"

Einstein merely cocked his head to look at Quatre with a questioning expression.

Quatre certainly could not deny this owl had a personality all its own as he turned and went back into his office, box and letter still in hand.  He crossed the room to sit at his massive desk, stacked with surveys, reports, and spreadsheets.  He was surprised when Einstein elected to stay perched on his shoulder as he paged his secretary in.

Of course one might expect a prim business-looking sort of lady to walk in as Quatre's secretary but one would be wrong.  Instead a short boy no older than 13 or 14 walked in wearing a crisp clean pair of jeans and a white 'I love NY' t-shirt.  

Quatre had found him shortly before the end of the war, working in a remote salvage yard on earth.  The kid's quick wit had instantly reminded him of Duo, but it had been his near perfect organizational skills that Quatre remembered later.  So, he had gone back to offer the boy a job and a real education, something that had become a valuable commodity during the war.  Neither had ever regretted the partnership.

"Yes, Mr. Winner?"

"Sam, am I ever going to convince you to just call me Cat?"

"Of course not, Mr. Winner," Sam replied with a hint of a smirk.

"Quatre?"

"Possibly, Mr. Winner, sir," he returned with mock formality.

Quatre smiled brightly at the cheeky lad.  Sam certainly reminded him of Duo, and was just as stubborn as Quatre's friend.  

"Could you cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day?"

"Of course Mr. Winner.  And Mr. Winner?"

"Yes Sam?"

"Are you aware you there is a bird perched on your shoulder?!?"

"Is there?"  Quatre grinned, "Are you sure?"

Sam looked at Quatre as if he had grown another head, since, with an owl on his shoulder, it might very well look like he had.

"Yes, Sam, I am aware there is an owl on my shoulder.  Could you also please call down to security and tell them to have the scanners ready?" Quatre stated in a tone that clearly said he did not want to say anything more.

----------- 

Quatre walked out of the security department no less confused than he had walked in.  The package appeared to be completely harmless.  That *should* have reassured him, but, instead, it made him more nervous.  He knew Trowa would not have smuggled an owl onto L4 just to send him a gift.  On that same note he could rule out the other pilots and his family, which completely ruled out everyone he could think of that would send him a 'harmless' gift.

Einstein, who had chosen to remain on his shoulder this whole time, hooted softly at him.

"You think I should just open this don't you?"  Quatre had stopped trying to rationalize why he was talking to Einstein.  It just seemed right.

Quatre looked back down at the package; his impulsive side was still itching to just rip it open.  Denying it was becoming especially hard now that he had no logical reasons to do so.  He looked one last time at Einstein as he boarded the elevator, and then threw caution to the wind and just opened it.  He tore the paper off with all the enthusiasm that had been building up inside him all day and then lifted the lid to the box.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Brutus stared at Wufei.  In fact, Wufei got the distinct impression that Brutus was shooting daggers at him and wishing for his untimely death.

Wufei looked at the box he was just about to open and started to wonder if it was such a good idea.  Just how dangerous could one of Maxwell's pranks be?

Screwing up his face in frustration Wufei tore the paper off the package and opened the lid of the box.  He flinched and ducked his head in preparation of whatever might come out.  After a few moments of silence which completely baffled Wufei, he decided to take a look at the contents of the box.  Still holding it away from his body, he attempted a quick glance inside, but what he saw stopped him from turning away so quickly.

Inside was a tiny replica of a Chinese Dragon.  His own family considered the dark, blood red mythical creatures on par with the gods.  Wufei suddenly wondered if opening the box so quickly had been such a good idea.  Duo would never have thought to send him a gift such as this, especially for no good reason.  In fact, he could think of no one that would give him a gift of this magnitude.  The dragon was perfection.  Its intricate deep, maroon scales gleamed under the sunlight.  Its golden, spiked mane circled the dragons head like a lion's, looking as if it would move in the breeze at any moment.  And the small, black beads for eyes gave Wufei a haunting feeling of being watched.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Trowa carefully removed the package from the bird's leg and moved his water glass over to offer a drink to the travel-weary animal.  Socrates gratefully accepted the refreshment as Trowa began opening the small parcel.

The box itself was wrapped in the plainest of brown paper, tied on with what appear to be twine string.  Once the paper was removed it revealed an equally plain white box with a snug fitting lid.  Trowa removed the lid and looked inside. 

It was fascinating-- easily one of the most intriguing things Trowa had ever seen.  In the box was a miniature replica of some kind of animal.  Except it was an animal of which Trowa had never seen or heard.

It appeared to be some variety of cat.  It had very sleek golden fur that appeared downy soft in surprising contrast to the rigid, stony material it was made of.  The fur was speckled with dark grey spots, similar to that of a leopard.  Its tail looked very much like that of a lion except that the tuft of fur at the end was the same dark grey as the spots on its fur.  The mysterious feline's ears had an oval shape to them and appeared overly large for its head.

The cat's head is what really pulled Trowa's attention.  Its basic features were much like that of a leopard, since they were much smaller and more delicate looking than that of a lion or panther.  Its eyes shone a very vivid jungle green.  The gleam in them made Trowa instinctively recognize this as a creature to be respected for its intellect and independence.

The former Gundam pilot couldn't control his urge to reach in and remove the enchanting animal from its confines.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Duo knew he had made a mistake the very second he felt his stomach lurch, as if being pulled outside himself by some invisible force.  He could feel Heero's hand on top of his own.  That gave him a small amount of comfort as the room faded from view.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Quatre stared at the exquisite replica of a unicorn inside the box.  Its entire body shone like a well polished pearl.  The pure white mane and tail seemed to ripple in the non-existant breeze.  Its head was tucked in as if captured in the moment of bowing gracefully in greeting.

It seemed to call to Quatre to release it from its prison inside the small, consticted box.  Quatre reached inside to lift the figurine out for a better look when he felt something pull from behind his bellybutton and the room around him seemed to dissolve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Disconcerted by the eerie feeling the miniature figure gave him, Wufei moved to return the lid to the box.   However, Brutus chose that exact moment to launch a surprise attack, and flew at Wufei.  His wings knocked the box from Wufei's hand and sent it, and the dragon, flying into the air.

"Damn bird!  What is wrong with you, you psychotic excuse for an owl?!"  Wufei roared in complete aggravation.

He caught the small figure just before it hit his head.

Suddenly he felt a tug inside his midsection and the area around him began to fade.  The last thing he could see was what appeared to be a very satisfied smirk on Brutus' face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Trowa felt the pull on his navel immediately.  The café faded from view.  Socrates' comforting hoots echoed, as if coming from down a long hallway.  Slowly the hoots faded away completely and there was nothing left for him to see or hear.  And then just as everything was gone, it was back and Trowa landed with a thud on the floor.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

________________

Three years in Professor Sybil Trelawny's class had taught Harry one thing: Divination was for the birds.  That was why Harry found his dreams and nightmares so odd.

Voldemort had been frighteningly quiet since the "incident" at the end of fourth year.  This was actually more of a concern than a relief, because it meant Voldemort was planning.  And, he was taking his time.  Both thoughts worried Harry.

Voldemort, however, was not what was currently keeping Harry awake at night.  His dreams had been uncannily realistic lately, and when his dreams had gotten *this* realistic in the past, they had usually come true.  What this meant, to the disgust of this devoted non-believer of all things divination-related, was that his dreams were sometimes really premonitions.  Of course, Harry had tried to pass the dreams off as being just strange coincidences, but one can only delude oneself so long before one is forced to see the truth.

Once Harry had been forced to accept this fact, he found his dreams that much more disturbing.  He began wondering which dreams would eventually come true and which were *just* dreams, influenced by the scraps of food the Dursley's fed him.  Given the nature of them lately, he was seriously hoping it was the latter.

Harry stroked Hedwig's chest as he stared out the window of the smallest bedroom of the house at 4 Privet Drive.  He had dreamt of Draco.  And just when had he become Draco and not Malfoy?  Harry figured it must have been sometime after fourth year, when petty schoolboy rivalries had begun to seem so trivial.  Not just think, but dream.  Dream about Draco Malfoy.   His biggest enemy and rival at Hogwarts.  Or was he?

In the years following Cedric's death, many of his classmates had become more subdued, and Draco had been no exception.  His normally haughty personality began to seem less so.  Harry didn't want to admit he had noticed, but Draco had changed.   Not entirely of course.  But still he *had* changed.  The taunts during 5th and 6th years had slowed to a trickle and their sting seemed to fade.  At first Harry believed it was only he who had changed, that he had somehow become immune to Draco's harsh words, but Hermione had noticed as well.  And, though he would never admit it, they both knew that Ron had noticed, too.

Rumors started surfacing during the last part of their 6th year concerning Draco's altered behavior-- it had finally caught the attention of the other students.  It had finally caught the attention of the other students.  People blamed the drastic changes on Cedric's death.  But Harry knew better.  Cedric's death had not affected Draco.  He had heard a 3rd year Slytherin telling a 1st year that his father beat him, but Harry didn't believe that either.  Draco was simply too proud to allow that.  Pansy went around telling everyone that Draco hadn't changed at all, he was just misunderstood.  Ron, Hermione, and he, had all had a good laugh at that.  Draco had definitely changed, but what was not clear was what the change meant and why it had even occurred.

They had ignored it for the most part.  They were too busy enjoying life.  They all knew that Voldemort was back.  They knew he was gaining followers and planning.  But for the moment it was quiet and they could just enjoy themselves.    

So now, as Harry sat here contemplating his latest 'Draco dream', his mind wandered back on the others he had had earlier this summer.  They were not the porn-like fantasy type dreams that *some* people would believe he was having about Draco.  But instead, they were dreams he found disturbing on a whole other level.  His first dream of Draco had consisted of Draco protecting him from inside a magical shield, something that had only just learned during 6th year.  Harry had blamed *that* dream on the spoiled anchovies Mrs. Dursley had put in his salad for dinner that night.  Three weeks later Harry had dreamt that Draco was helping him run down the hall in the midst of five other boys Harry didn't recognize.  When he woke he realized that food was not the cause of his dreams.  

He had sat up the night of that dream and tried to remember every detail.  He had tried to blow the five unrecognizable boys off as Slytherins he just didn't know.  But deep down inside he knew that wasn't true.  He may not know their names but he *knew* every Slytherins face.  He knew that in all his years at Hogwarts he had never seen any of those five boys.  But what did that mean?

As disturbing as that dream had been, the one he had woken from tonight was by far the worst.  He had dreamt that he was lost, not lost in any physical sense, but lost from his goals, his purpose.  Then Draco had appeared, and held him, and comforted him.  In his dream they had talked as if they were very close friends.  That bothered Harry more than the other dreams.  Why would he ever let Draco get that close to him?   He most certainly couldn't trust the cold-hearted Slytherin, could he?

The dreams made him wonder.

Dreams, or premonitions?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Are you sure about this Albus?"

"Yes, Minerva."

"The ministry has very strict rules on this for a reason."

"But it must be done."

"But what about…"

"Yes, I know…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Draco loved his father.  For all the reasons a son should love a father.  Draco loved, respected, and admired his father.  This did not mean he wanted to *be* his father.  He took this as a sign that he had matured over the years, despite what his rivals said.

At the age of 11, everything Draco had ever known was what his father had taught him.   And his father was never wrong.   

So, when his father told him that Harry Potter would be a powerful political ally to have in the future, it didn't occur to Draco to doubt him.   After all, his father was never wrong.

It wasn't hard to want to be Harry Potter's friend, for every one of his peers wanted that very same thing.   At 11, the lure of power and fame can be ever so enchanting…   Who wouldn't want to be known by everyone as the closet friend of the Boy-Who-Lived?  Fame by association.

Part of him didn't need his father's prodding; he *did* want to be Harry Potter's friend.  Because he was just like every other 11 year old.  Harry Potter was a legend.  Everyone knew his name.  Everyone knew his story.  Harry Potter was a children's fairy tale.  How could he not want to be close to someone like that?  To be that close to someone so famous, it was everything a boy of his position deserved.

He had dreamed and fantasized about how great he would be, how famous *he* would be once Harry Potter was his friend.  He had pictured all that fame and glory.  But then, it all went *horribly* wrong.  Harry didn't want to be *his* friend.  He wanted that rotten, no good, *poor* Weasley.  

The rejection had stung more than anything else in his whole life.  Mostly because he had never been denied anything before, who would dare?  He was a Malfoy, born into one of the most privileged families in all the wizarding world.   What had sprung from that rejection was nothing less than pure anger.  Pure childish anger.  Anger at Harry for rejecting him, anger at Ron for stealing his place at Harry's side, anger at Hermione for gaining access into that glorified circle that he had been denied, and anger at himself for being so effected.

That anger festered, leading to four years of bitter arguing and ruthless boyhood rivalry.  His pride hurt and so he lashed out at the cause, Harry.  Harry, and his friends.  It was Harry's fault that his father had been disappointed in him.  Harry's fault he never got any of the fame or glory.  Harry deserved everything he got.

But something else had also sprung from that rejection.  Curiosity.  Curiosity, not for the famous Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, but for Harry, the boy who had chosen the person over the family.  Who chose friendship over wealth.  Draco wondered what it would be like to be valued not by what his family had but for who he was.

Four years he spent facing off against Harry, angry at him for rejecting his offer of friendship.  Four years he let that fester and brew inside him, becoming ever more hateful as the years passed.  But facing off with Harry also allowed him to feed his curiosity; to learn about the boy that no one told fairy tales about.   

Harry wasn't just the boy who saw the person over the family.  Or the boy who chose friendship over wealth.  Harry was also the boy that laughed at all their jokes, even the bad ones.   Harry was the boy that told his friends his own deepest, darkest secrets, and trusted them to keep those secrets safe.  Harry was the boy who helped his friends with their homework, even when it was for his least favorite class.  Harry was the boy who fought for his friends.

How would that feel?  To be that close to someone?  Draco could only imagine.  Crabbe and Goyle were certainly nothing like Harry.   They never got his jokes.  They never worked on their homework together.  And they certainly wouldn't risk their lives for him.

After Cedric's death he had tried to continue that boyhood war, but too much had changed.  He tried to find that anger inside him, but strangely he found that the curiosity had taken over.  He spent all that summer prior to 5th year examining himself.  He couldn't understand how the curiosity could have become such a large part of him.  Ha hated Harry Potter, didn't he?  Harry had hurt him.  Wronged him.  So why couldn't he find that anger anymore?  Why was the curiosity he felt so over powering?  He wanted nothing more that the worst for Harry.  Right?

Somewhere deep down inside him, hidden in a place he couldn't find, was something that he wanted more than he wanted the worst for Harry.  What Draco Malfoy wanted was to be friends with Harry Potter.  Not Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, but Harry, the boy who choose friendship, over wealth and family ties.  Harry, who gave his trust, with ease, to his friends.  Harry, who fought for his friends.  

Draco had tried to break his old habits; to bury the old feud.  But old habits die hard, and Draco found himself falling into those old taunts, sending hurtful jabs at Harry and his friends.  Fifth and sixth year passed and he was no closer to being Harry's friend than he had been 1st year.  His failed attempts to bury the feud had only worked to show him that he would never be worthy of Harry's golden friendship.  Too much time had passed, too many hurtful words had been spoken.

But part of him still hoped.

___________________________________ 


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

________________

"Holy fuck!"

Duo felt that pretty well summed up the whole situation, his feelings, Heero's feelings, and the general atmosphere of the room.

"What the hell kind of stunt are you trying to pull Maxwell?  Where the hell are we?"  Wufei ranted, more out of habit and stress than actual logic.

"ME?!?  You think *I* did this?  Are you completely BLIND?  I am wearing a SHEET!  Heero is in a damn TOWEL! And we are both on a fucking STONE floor and you think I had something to do with this?!?  *I* was at home enjoying my god damn *AFTERGLOW* when this bird…"

"Duo.  Enough.  Shouting certainly isn't going to help matters any," Quatre said diplomatically, looking slightly stressed himself.

Trowa was standing just behind Quatre, having just helped the shorter pilot to his feet.   Both were still dusting themselves off after their unceremonious landing on the floor.  Trowa looked as if he was trying *not* to enjoy the scene in front of him:  minimal white cloth and considerable amounts of red tinged skin.  Duo embarrassed was a very rare thing indeed. 

Wufei was just to the other side of Quatre, also recovering from his unfavorable landing.  He was gaping red-faced at Maxwell for so blatantly broadcasting his recent activities, not that he and Heero's current state of undress hadn't already made it quite obvious.

Heero, himself was in the most interesting predicament.  He was caught between the need to stand up and reassert his dignity and the desire to stay more decently covered under Duo and his mound of sheets.

"Ah.  Ah-hem.  My, this, is an interesting scene isn't it?"

All five heads turned to pinpoint the new voice.  All five, despite their highly unusual and unexpected dilemma, looked prepared to fight and kill the moment the first sound had been uttered.  That was quite the accomplishment, considering two of the five were in a... compromising state.  Dumbledore was impressed.

"I apologize, let me introduce myself.  I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster here at Hogwarts.  I am the one who arranged for you to come here."

"And you think that is supposed to *comfort* us, you old goat?!"  Duo shouted from his position on the floor.

"Ah, well, yes, I had thought...  Well, never mind.  Why don't we find you some clothes?  Then I imagine you all have some questions."

"Some?!?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Heero was glaring.  Not that this was unusual for Heero; he had many different glares.  Duo should know, he made sure to cause as many of them as possible.  *This* glare, however, was not Duo's fault.  This was Heero's don't-even-think-about-messing-with-me-because-I-have-my-finger-so-tight-around-the-trigger-button-that-a-pin-drop-could-make-me-detonate glare.  Duo knew to stay far away from *this* glare.

Duo really did not blame Heero one bit as he looked down at the clothes they had been given.  Dark grey slacks.  *Slacks!*  Who the hell wore slacks anymore? Okay, besides Quatre.  They also had on white linen shirts and had been given navy pull-over sweater vests to complete the ensemble.  He and Heero had both flatly refused.  

A pull-over sweater vest?  Dear god, just tattoo the word 'tacky' on his forehead and get it over with!

They were all seated back in Dumbledore's office.  Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei had never actually left and Heero and Duo had only gone into a small room that joined into the office off from the side.

"I imagine you have some questions, but, if you would, let me try to explain first and maybe I will answer some of them.  Since you have all read the letter..."

"Well actually, uh, Mr. Dumbodorf? …"

"Dumbledore."

"Yea, right.  Okay, well see me and Heero, we didn't exactly get a chance to *see* the letter…"

"Maxwell!  You are saying you opened your package without even knowing who it was from?!!!"

"Okay boys, let's just calm down.  Why don't I explain why you are here?"

"That's an excellent idea Professor. "  Quatre agreed in his more assertive, executive voice, as the other pilots nodded their agreement.

"We have recently discovered that in your time…"

"Excuse me, sir?  Did you just say 'our time'?  What time are we in exactly?"  Wufei asked in confusion.

"The year is 1997.  That would be what is considered, Old Earth Calendar for you boys."

"But how is that possible sir?  That would put us just a little over 300 years in the past," Quatre interjected.

"That's correct."

"That's impossible.  No one has been able to make time travel possible."  Duo countered.

"If you will let me continue, I believe I will answer these questions for you," Dumbledore stated calmly.  Heero gave a nod, indicating he should continue, and Dumbledore watched as each of the pilots chose to follow his lead and wait to hear the headmaster's explanations.

"As I was saying we have recently discovered that in your time magic has become virtually non-existent."

"Did he just say…"

"Shut up, Duo," Heero ordered quietly but firmly.

"Yes, magic.  Each of you has displayed magical abilities, only no one was there to discover you or instruct you.  We have brought you here to fix that and hopefully ensure that magic has a more prosperous future.  You were, in fact, brought here by a form of magic."

"You have *got* to be shitting me," Duo stated with complete and total disbelief.

"Take a look in your hand there."

Duo looked down to his hand where he was still holding the small figurine from that package.  It was a black shiny, sleek panther.   Smooth fur glossed over well defined muscle in surprising detail.  From its back sprouted two leathery bat wings, also black but not as shiny as the fur.  Duo was simply floored by the realism of the tiny object.  Then that object turned its head to look at him.

------------------------- 

The Weasley house was never quiet.  Voices echoed off the walls and floors of the magical household constantly.  Bangs, bumps, and explosions were hardly rare.  Smells of something mouthwatering drifted from the kitchen at any given time.  Family members shuffled from room to room.  Siblings argued and bickered.  There was simply no peace to be found in the Weasly household.

For this Harry was eternally grateful.  Not only did he get to enjoy the feeling of being part of the family he never had, but he also was able to finally be distracted from all the thoughts running through his head.  He wanted to talk to Ron about the dreams, except every time he tried he found himself backing down.  Not that he was afraid to tell Ron, he was just, well, afraid.

There had been a new development in the dreams.  He was finding the dreams less and less disturbing; he was actually beginning to find them reassuring.  And while that bothered him to some degree, he found that he was becoming more accustomed to the idea with every passing day.

Harry wondered how exactly he was supposed to tell his best friend that he was having warm, fuzzy dreams about their mutual worst enemy.

"Harry…"

…

"Harry!"

…

"HARRY!!! Wake up!"

…

Harry looked up from his thoughts, which had once again managed to run away with him, and into Ron's not-so-happy face.

"Oh, right then.  Well, let's go!"

Ron let out a sigh that clearly expressed his utter annoyance at Harry right at that moment.

-------------------- 

Duo watched in complete--and utterly speechless--wonder, a first for the normally outspoken pilot, as the tiny miracle in his hand moved around.  Each pilot, in turn, looked down in astonishment at the figurines in each of their own hands, figurines that had also miraculously started to move.  Each pilot, in turn, looked down in wonder at the objects in each of their own hands, objects that had also miracously started to move.

Quatre hid a very childish whoop of delight as the unicorn pranced about in the palm of his hand, shaking its head with undisguisable grace.

"Oh, but you are such a beautiful thing," Quatre said in undiluted awe.  "You deserve better than my hand for roaming, don't you?"

Having said that, Quatre set his hand palm up on Dumbledore's desk and allowed the unicorn to step down onto the much larger surface.  The unicorn strutted down onto the workspace and made a few circuits of the area to have a look around.

First, it turned to face Dumbledore and gave brief nod, then pivoted to look thoughtfully at each pilot in turn.  The delicate looking creature finally stopped on Quatre and rested its gaze there for a longer inspection.  After a moment, the unicorn moved to the edge of the desk in Quatre's direction, stopped at the edge, and bowed its head grandly at the still-awed pilot.  

It then backed up several spaces and galloped forward, leaping over the edge of the desk and onto Quatre's thigh.  The magical creature pranced around for a moment on the blonde's leg, cultivating an air around it that spoke of grace and dignity, before finally stopping and laying down near the edge of Quatre's knee.

Meanwhile, Wufei gaped in barely contained shock as his once perfect figurine was now a moving and very alive Chinese Dragon flying right in front him.  The deep red dragon flapped its wings lazily as it hovered in front of Wufei's face.  Wufei, who was not too far gone to forget his ever-present manners, nodded gracefully in greeting.

"Greetings, Dragon-sama," Wufei spoke with an air of reverence for the small creature.  The miniature dragon seemed to accept Wufei's simple words, for it flew over and perched on his shoulder.  And Wufei, it seemed, sat just a little straighter.

Beside Quatre, at that same moment, Trowa was making similar introductions with his figurine-turned-live animal.  The cat-like creature watched him with a clearly suspicious gaze, as if determining his worthiness.  Trowa, like Wufei, bowed his head to the small feline.

"Pleased to meet you, my friend.  Would you like to stand on the desk?"  He offered, using the same tone he used to address his fellow pilots and friends; the same tone he had used to talk to Socrates.

The mysterious creature nodded its head in agreement at Trowa's proposal, and Trowa promptly moved his hand to allow the animal to move to the desk.

"Are you and Socrates acquainted?"  Trowa asked.  "He brought you to me, and I wasn't able to thank him properly before I arrived here," Trowa continued to converse with the silent feline.

The miniaturized creature sat on the desk and gazed at Trowa.  The tall pilot could *feel* the cat assessing and weighing his personality.  He felt that with this animal trust was all, or nothing.  He also sensed gaining this feline's wary trust would be very important for some unknown reason.  Trowa also knew trust could not be assessed, only earned.

"I don't know you, small one.  And you don't know me.  But I would be quite honored if you would allow me to know you and perhaps earn your trust."

The independent feline seemed very happy with this and stood back up.  It jumped into the air and landed on an invisible platform.  It then stalked over to Trowa's shoulder, walking along this same invisible surface and climbed onto his shoulder.  It yawned lazily and then curled up and went to sleep.

A few seats over Heero was not having such good results with his figurine, which had been left forgotten in the box all this time.  When he opened the box just moments ago, he had been greeted with what appeared to be a very angry, ruffled, grayish-brown wolf.  Heero thought that there seemed to be something different about this wolf, something not quite normal, but he really couldn't stop to think of what it was because the wolf was growling viciously at him.  The wolf leapt from the box and onto Heero's knee where he continued to growl at the pilot.

Heero had no idea what to think of the strange creature.  He was still processing everything else that had happened and found himself unprepared to handle any of it.  Now he had a very pissed wolf just the size of his fist growling at him from his own knee.  He was strongly torn between the trained response to destroy it and the feeling to try and befriend it.  

He tried to look to Duo for help but he was too distracted by his own tiny creature to see Heero's desperate expression.  Heero looked back down at the wolf in resignation, he could do this.

"Gomen, I didn't mean to leave you in the box.  This baka over here,"  Heero said pointing to Duo, "brought us here before I could open the box."  Not that he would have been stupid enough to open the box like Duo had, but he didn't add that.

The wolf stopped growling for a moment and looked at him.  

Heero glared back.  They both seemed to weigh each other's worthiness, they also seemed to try and use that same look to intimidate the other.  Neither wanted to back down first.  Heero assessed this battle as a stalemate, and opted for another route.

"I will not submit to you, and obviously you have no desire to submit to me.  I will regard you as my equal if you will regard me as yours, and later you can bite Duo for making me leave you in the box so long.  Deal?"

The wolf's eyes gleamed with natural mischief and he nodded his head in agreement.  The wolf then turned and sat down on the edge of Heero's knee.  He used his position to quietly watch the occupants of the room, studying each with a disquieting intensity.

Duo looked at the creature in his hand, "Oooh, you are sooo COOL!  Can you fly?  Are you hungry? Have you been alive this whole time?  Holy shit!  You are just too damn cool!"  He gave a hoot of barely contained excitement.

The midnight colored feline's purple tinted eyes gleamed in what could only be described as trouble.  It spread its wings and flapped them in a surprising amount of silence and power, and then lifted silently off Duo's hand.  It zipped away and Duo saw it reappear just behind Wufei.  The dragon had just finished curling up on Wufei's shoulder, it's head nestled just beneath the boy's ear.  The black panther-like creature's eyes flashed and it reached out its clawed paw and swiped it swiftly across the unaware dragon's tail.  Before the dragon could move, the devilish panther was gone and back in Duo's palm.  Duo stared down in awe at the creature for the briefest of moments before he was interrupted by the angry screech of Wufei's dragon and Wufei's yelp.

Wufei, who was now baring a singe mark just below his ear, glared around the room before resting his eyes on Duo.  Similarly the dragon on Wufei's shoulder was glaring dangerously at the creature in Duo's hands.

Duo looked back down at the panther that was now smugly licking his paw with feigned innocence as if daring anyone to prove he was at fault for the ruckus across the room.

"Oh HELL yea!  You are so fucking cool."

Dumbledore watched the entire scene with an approving smile.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

________________

Harry, Ron, and Hermione boarded the train located on platform 9 and ¾.  They were surprisingly quiet as they boarded the Hogwarts Express for what would be their last year at the school.  They shuffled through the other students in search of an empty compartment. They finally found one halfway down the last train car.

"Seems like a lot more 1st years this year doesn't it?"  Hermione said conversationally a they seated themselves.

Harry sat on one side while Hermione and Ron seated themselves on the other.  The two of them had been together since sixth year but very little had changed; after all, they had all been friends since first year.  But something about seeing Ron and Hermione together now reminded Harry of his dreams.

Why had it been Draco that held him and comforted him?  Why not Ron or Hermione?  Where had they been in is dreams?  

Harry decided it was time to tell them both about his dreams.

-------------------- 

"So you're saying all five of us have magical powers like that?  And you're going to show us how to use them?"  Duo, finally having regained some of quick wits, questioned Dumbledore eagerly.

"Yes you five all possess those powers, but you need to learn how to use them and control them."

"How can you be so sure we contain this magic you speak of?"  Wufei said with blatant disbelief.

"That is very easy."  Prof. Dumbledore said and then turned to look directly at Quatre first.  "You have already shown the strongest display of magic, when you feel what you call your 'space heart'.  This is actually called Empathy and it is a form of magic.  It can be either receptive or projectile empathy.  You have the capacity for both.  With practice we can teach you to control it and use it at will rather than randomly.  As your experience grows you will be able to not only sense other people's emotions at will but you will also be able to manipulate them if you want.  It is a very rare and powerful gift, but I imagine you already know that."

Quatre nodded both in understanding and acceptance.  On some level he had already known.

Dumbledore looked at Duo next, much to his surprise and discomfort.  "I think you already know your power but you refuse to accept it.  Your magical ability has revealed itself in your ability to defy death.  You are not immune to death but you *are* resistant to it.  You have never been sick; your magic keeps you in perfect health.  You repel unnatural death with a magical aurora that surrounds you."

Duo bowed his head, fighting back the tears.

"You already knew this because you have seen everyone around die time after time, while you yourself continue to stand.  And I believe you resent this gift of yours."

Duo looked up in shock-- and maybe a little anger-- at being read so well, having his deepest pain prodded so openly.  Heero moved to put an arm around him and Duo slumped into the embrace.

"If you allow us we can teach you not only to better control this gift but how to use it to protect more than yourself.   Other people you might wish to save," Dumbledore finished quietly.

Duo looked at the aged professor almost fearfully.  He was afraid to believe, but he couldn't deny the spark of hope.  "Thank you," he murmured so softly only Heero and Dumbledore understood.

"Heero, your magic is very similar to Duo's.  You to defy death but not in the same manner that Duo does.  Your magic shows itself in the form of how fast you heal.  Your ability to heal quickly is what has allowed you live through so many things that would kill a normal man.  And yes, I know you always thought the fast healing as a manufactured enhancement, but it is not." 

Heero nodded, at this point, and considering Duo's current mood, he was willing to suspend his suspicions for a while.  He was more concerned for Duo if all the turned out to be just some cruel joke.  Duo was his life.

Dumbledore recognized the dismissal and moved on to Trowa.

"Your gift is your remarkable animal sense.  You have an uncanny ability to understand them and speak to them on he same ground that you speak with everyone else around you.  This gift is often overlooked as merely an affinity for animals.  You will find however that animals don't just 'seem' to understand you but that they actually do listen and understand what you say.  In time, with practice, you will be able to understand them as if they had spoken.  I imagine you're curious about the animal now curled on your shoulder.  It is a Kneazle, very difficult animals to befriend, but fiercely loyal once you have.  Even at his small size he will defend you with his life."

Then, he turned to look at all the pilots again,  "Actually, your ability to befriend each of these animals is also a result of your magical ability.  Each of these animals is found only in the magical world, and would only reveal and befriend themselves to a witch or wizard."

"Excuse me, but other than the dragon, you have not provided any proof that *I* have this magical ability that you speak of."

"Ah, but Wufei, I think we both know that there is nothing I can offer as proof that would make you believe.  You actually come from a very long line of Witches *and* Wizards: unfortunately all either choose to hide their abilities or deny them.  You will choose on your own what you wish to believe.  All I can do is offer you the chance to do that."

Wufei regarded the so-called wizard in front of him carefully.  He was very wise and reminded him of his own deceased ancestors, the ones who always seemed to know much more than they would ever reveal.  And, much to Wufei's chagrin, were always right about what little they would reveal.  He nodded to indicate his temporary appeasement to the elder wizard.

------------------ 

"So you didn't recognize any of the boys?  That's quite odd, unless--do you think, were they first years?"  Hermione questioned.

"No, they looked my age, so they couldn't have been."  Harry replied, already becoming weary of Hermione's interrogation.

"But Malfoy?  Why the hell did you dream about MALFOY?!  That's disgusting!"  Ron said for the 20th time, no less disgusted than the 1st time he said it.  In fact, Harry was sure that Ron was actually becoming more disgusted as time progressed.

"Oh Ron!  That's not important right now!  What is…"

"Bloody hell it's not important!  It's MALFOY Hermione!  Or did you forget he's a bleedin' Death Eater!"

"Now Ron we don't know that…"

"The HELL we don't.  His father is a Death Eater.  You-know-who's favorite Death Eater to be exact!!!"

Harry sighed as Ron and Hermione's argument faded in his head and his thoughts drifted to Draco Malfoy.  Was Draco a Death Eater?  He had to admit it made sense.  Draco idolized his father.  The phrase, 'Like father, like son' was created for Draco and his father.  But something about the dreams and Draco's behavior over the last two years made Harry wonder.  If anything, Draco had seemed kinder... well, maybe not kinder, but less evil.  Certainly that wasn't how Death Eater behaved.  Ron and Hermione's voices faded back into the foreground and Harry caught up with the on-going argument.

"How can you say I am a blind unforgiving git?!  This is MALFOY!  MAL-FOY! Or have you forgotten how he has treated you, us, for the last six years?!"  Ron roared.

"I remember EXACTLY what he's done!  Have you even noticed he hasn't insulted either of us in the last year?"

"But he still insults HARRY, or doesn't THAT matter?"

"Yes, but not nearly as much as before!  In fact, can you imagine what might happen if he stopped completely?!  I bet that's why he still does it!"

"SURE Hermione, of course, Malfoy is this great guy who is FORCED to act like an evil git to protect himself.  Of course!  Why didn't I think of that?"  Ron countered in a tone that positively dripped in sarcasm.

"Look, both of you, I don't understand this any more than you do.  I agree with Hermione that Draco is different somehow.  But I also agree with Ron that far too much has passed for us to just forgive him…"  Whatever else Harry wanted to say was lost as Ron exploded.

"Oh. My. GOD!  You just called him Draco!  You just called MALFOY by his FIRST NAME!"

"It was just a slip, I didn't mean to…"

"You fucking called MALFOY, _DRACO!!!"_


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

________________

"How can you expect us to enter classes with other students when they have already been here for six years?"  Wufei asked, after listening to Dumbledore's continued explanations of their purpose for being here at Hogwarts in the twentieth century.

"Yes, sir, wouldn't that put us at a great disadvantage?"  Quatre asked, feeling just a bit excited about the whole idea despite these hurdles.

"Ah, yes it would, but I believe I have come up with something that should work."

"Well, Merlin, let's hear it so we can move on to the actual 'doing' part of this assignment."  Duo quipped, completely enthralled with the idea of learning some magic.  The other pilots eyed his enthusiastic expression nervously.

"Ah, Headmaster?"  Trowa cut in, "We aren't going to learn anything dangerous or explosive are we?"  

"Well, yes, some of the spells and potions …"

Dumbledore was interrupted by the collective moan from four of the pilots and the excited yip from Mr. Maxwell.  Dumbledore smiled good-naturedly at the pilots age-revealing antics.

"Yes, well as I was saying.  I believe I have a way to bring you up to speed with your fellow classmates.  This is the first year for us to offer a program of this sort, so I am afraid we may have to work out some kinks here and there."

"Work out a few kinks here and there?  That doesn't exactly sound like a rock solid plan there, Mr. Wizard."  Despite his earlier enthusiasm, Duo was a little skeptical of trusting their safety to such a vague plan.

"Oh and like you have room to talk, Maxwell?  Mr. Let's-run-in-blasting-everything-in-sight-and-ask-questions-later?"  Wufei retorted sarcastically.

"Aw c'mon Wufei you know I never do that.  I usually make sure all the civilians are out of the way before I start shootin'.   And besides I have planned *tons* of missions, and you know it!"

"A plan is *not* locating a base and deciding to blast the hell out of it!!!"

"Sure it is!"

"Enough," Heero said, nodding briefly at Dumbledore.

"Yes.  Again, there will be some bumps along the way, but I am sure you boys will be able to handle whatever pops up.  Now our seventh year students always spend the year reviewing the last six years in detail, in order to prepare for N.E.W.T.S, Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests.  This, of course, will be very beneficial to you all who will be learning the curriculum for the first time.

"However, since none of you have so much as lifted a wand, you will need to learn some basic things before you can participate in the classroom.  I have arranged for the five of you to be tutored by a variety of our professors privately for the first three weeks while the other students are reviewing their first year lessons.  After the tutorial you will start classes with the other students as they begin their review of second year topics."

"Excuse me sir, but how can you expect us to learn for the first time what other students are merely reviewing?"  Trowa asked.

"We are not expecting you all to master any of this.  Only to become familiar and comfortable with the talents you possess.  At the end of the year you will be given the option to stay and continue your education or return home.  Besides, you all *are* Gundam pilots are you not?  I expect you learn at a much faster rate than most."

Heero glared at Dumbledore suspiciously, "And how is it you know so much about us?"

"Ah my boy, I know a great many things, about a great many people.  Sometimes even it is even too much for me to keep it all inside my head."

Heero continued to glare suspiciously at the aged wizard.

"Hee-chan, he did magically transport us here.  He's got to know a lot about us to pull that off.  And if he can do something like that, if he was dangerous, I'm sure he would have done us all in by now."  Duo pointed out in his own uniquely calm and reassuring way to the easily tensed ex-Wing pilot. 

Heero shrugged and deferred to Duo's usually better judgment in these matters.  But he would wait to make his own evaluations.

"Earlier you mentioned wands, I am sure there are other supplies we will need as well," Quatre began, "but unfortunately you brought us here with nothing but the clothes on our back."

Trowa coughed suspiciously, eyeing Heero and Duo from the corner of his eyes.  Quatre's mouth quirked slightly, but he continued, "So unfortunately we have no money to pay for these things."   No one was really surprised that Quatre was the one to think of the money issues.

"Ah I'm glad you brought that up.  We often have students who cannot afford tuition or supplies, or simply come from a muggle family that refuses to pay."

"Muggle?"  Duo interrupted.

"Non-magical people."  Dumbledore provided the quick explanation before continuing.  "We have a 'special needs' fund that we use for these types of situations.  The school will purchase your first wands for you and most of your school supplies will be hand-me-downs from past students.  There is of course a dress code you will need to be fitted for."

"A dress code?!?"  Duo exclaimed, looking very pained by the mere idea.  "How many time am I going to have to wear a damn uniform?  I swear, if I have…"

"Duo, it's not that big a deal.  Look at it this way, you still get to use magic."  Quatre pointed out.

"But still…"

"Duo… Be quiet."

"Heero… I don't want …" Duo quickly shut up however when he saw the look on Heero's face.  No point arguing with that face.  Apparently, Heero didn't like the idea either.   That made Duo feel better; misery loves company.

"Before we can do anything else, we need to get you all fitted for uniforms and then let Ollivander find you the right wand.  Mrs. Snipit here will take your measurements and the house elves will get your uniforms made."

The boys swiveled around in their seats to where Dumbledore had gestured, only there was no one there.

"Up here dears," a cheery, elderly voice called out from a painting just above where the boys were looking.

The boys all refocused their gaze on the moving picture that was talking to them. 

"Pick up your jaws up there dears, you'll catch flies.  Now we haven't got all day, Mr. Winner, let's start with you.  Stand up please!"

Quatre gaped at the wiry figure in the picture.  A short elderly lady, in what could only be described as seventeenth century clothes, was looking quite pointedly down at him.  She adjusted the bifocals on her nose as she waited for him to stand.  Not really knowing what else to do, Quatre stood up as instructed.

"Hold your arms out, yes, that's it," she coached, as he raised his arms.  She scribbled something down on the parchment she held then instructed him to turn around.  She jotted down a few more numbers before letting him sit back down.

"Okay, Mr. Barton, you next please."

Trowa seemed less shocked than the others, or perhaps he had just resolved not to be surprised by anything that happened while he was here; it was hard to tell.  At any rate, he simply stood up as instructed and held his arms up, then watched as she started to scratch measurements onto her parchment.  When her quill stopped moving, Trowa turned around and listened as it once again made scratching noises, evidence that Mrs. Snipit's quill was once more in motion.  When it stopped the second time Trowa turned and gave a nod to Mrs. Snipit and then returned to his seat.

"Thank you Mr. Barton.  Mr. Chang, Mr. Yuy, and Mr. Maxwell can all stand up now.  You all seem very similar in build, go on, hold your arms up."

"Lady, how can you possibly know our measurements just by *looking*?" Duo asked, the shock of a talking and moving painting having finally worn off.

"Well dear, I have been taking measurements for close to 250 years.  Time and experience are what let me judge your size."

"Oh."  Duo didn't have a comeback for that.

Heero smirked.  It wasn't everyday he got to see his lover speechless and today it had happened more than once.  That was more than he had seen in all his years of knowing the Deathsythe pilot.  He was beginning to like this place.

Mrs. Snipit finished and let the boys sit back down.

"Please make sure to tell the house elves that those will need to be done by dinner."  Dumbledore said to Mrs. Snipit as she flitted from painting to painting out the door, on her way to find the house elves.

Dumbledore turned back to the boys, "Well, I believe all we have left to do is get you boys your wands.  Prof. Hagrid and Prof. Snape should be here to escort you to…"

Dumbledore was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Ah that must be them now," Dumbledore commented, "Come in," he called out.

The boys once again turned in their seats to see who was behind them, happy to see this time that it was two live people that had just walked in.

"Oh jeeze man!  Haven't you ever heard of *shampoo*?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Ron's face was redder than the ripest of tomatoes as he gaped at Harry.  Every once in awhile, he would screw his face up as if he had taken a large bite out of a very sour lemon, then his mouth would move a bit as if he were trying to say something, but then he would stop and go back to just gaping.  Harry didn't know whether or not to be grateful that Hermione was not suffering this affliction.  On one hand, she was not acting nearly so useless; on the other, her interrogation bore a suspicious resemblance the Spanish Inquisition.

"Do you think your dreams mean we should try to befriend him?" Hermione asked out loud, more to herself than Harry.  "I mean that doesn't seem to make sense, wouldn't befriending Malfoy *attract* You-Know-Who's attention?  But then, of course, there is the benefit of all his inside knowledge.  On the other hand, there is the chance it is some kind of trap.  I'm sure the library…"

"Enough Hermione!"  Harry blurted out, hurt by both Ron's apparent rejection and Hermione's stress-induced babbling.  The pressure had finally made him snap.

Hermione just looked at Harry as if he had grown another head, he never snapped, not like that.  Ron just continued to look at him, although not so blankly as before.

"Look. I don't know what it means.  It could be nothing.  I can't even be sure the dreams are real premonitions.  I think we should just wait and see what happens."  He said trying to calm down some.

"But Harry, we should be prepared …"

"So Harry, if they aren't *real* premonitions, *why* are you dreaming about *Malfoy*?" Ron interrupted.

"I don't know Ron, I'm sorry, I just *don't* know!"  Harry said, beginning to loose his patience once again.

"But Harry…" Ron and Hermione started at the same time.

"ARGH!" Harry exclaimed, throwing up his hands.  Fed up and stressed out, he stood and walked to the door, "I'm taking a walk. I'll be back in a bit."  He said before walking out the door.

Once out in the hall, Harry walked to the end of the train car and saw that the last compartment looked empty.  He opened the door and walked in.  Once inside, he slid the door shut and locked it.  He then slumped down on the bench seat with a weary sigh.

He let out another loud sigh, half groan as he banged his head on the glass window, wishing his troublesome thoughts away.

"Well, well, if it isn't the famous Harry Potter," an all too familiar voice drawled from the shadowed seat across from Harry.

Harry seriously wondered why his damn premonitions couldn't warn him about *these* awkward moments in advance so he could start trying to avoid them.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

________________

Professor Snape glared at the insolent braided *student* who would dare to *speak* to him, much less insult him.

"And you are?" he said with a drippingly disdainful sneer.

Duo hopped up and held out his hand. "Duo Maxwell. I may run and hide but I never tell a lie," he quipped jovially.  

 "Well, Mr. Maxwell, Do you make a practice of insulting your Professors, especially one who has access to at least fifty undetectable deadly poisons?" he asked haughtily, as if insulted by Duo's mere presence.

Duo visibly bristled.  "And do you regularly threaten future students who can kill *you* a hundred different ways with just their hands?" he retorted angrily.

Dumbledore interrupted before any more sparks could fly.

"Boys, this is Prof. Snape, our potions master, and Hagrid, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher.  Now no more petty arguing, you boys need to go get your wands.  Hagrid and Snape will accompany you to Diagon Alley where you will find Ollivander's Shop."  

"Sure, Headmaster, just tell the rat's nest here to get a sense of humor."  The ice in Duo's voice was palpable to everyone in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Malfoy."  

"Potter."  

"What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?  I'm awaiting our arrival at Hogwarts, or have you forgotten that that's why we're *all* on this miserable train?"

"Uh, no."  

"So maybe I should ask why *you* are in *here*?  Aren't your little hero worshippers with you?"

"No, they aren't.  I went for a walk."

"You don't look like you're walking to me."

"I wanted to think, and I didn't know there was anyone in here," Harry snapped, beginning to regret ever starting this conversation.  He hated these cat and mouse games.  He just should have left as soon as he'd seen Malfoy.

"Well as you can see, it's not empty."

"Fine.  I'm leaving."  Harry said, thankful for the chance to leave.

"Wait!  …You don't need to leave…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

"Oh wow! Look at THAT!"  Duo jumped and pulled Heero to yet another shop window, this one displaying cauldrons of all sizes.

"Hn."

"Oh, oh, and look over THERE!!" he yipped, dragging Heero across the street to a window displaying the 'Quickfire 3000', the newest, fastest line of brooms being sold.

"Mr. Maxwell, if you could *please* contain yourself.  People will think you've never been shopping before," Snape drawled caustically.

"Aw, c'mon Snape.  They're only kids.  Let 'em look 'round a bit," Hagrid offered in Duo's defense, who was too busy hauling Heero from window to window to have caught Snape's comment.

"You'll have to forgive Duo, sir," Wufei stated, "he tends to get over-excited by a great many things.  It's just the way he is," he continued, not sounding quite so bothered by the idea as he would like people to think.  "He's a lot more intelligent than he lets show.  Don't let his antics fool you."  The short speech spoke volumes of the Chinese boy's hidden respect for the braided pilot.

"Ah!  Now 'ere we are, boys.  Ollivander's.  In yer go."  Hagrid said, holding the door open.  "Snape 'ere will wait with yer while I tend ter some other 'ogwarts business."

The young ex-pilots filed in, followed by a very disgruntled looking Snape.  "Hogwarts Business" was all that could be distinguished from the grumbling under his breath as the door closed.

The five teens stared in varied degrees of awe and curiosity around the small shop.  Not only was it small, but it was also quite cluttered.  Floor to ceiling shelves lined the room, filled with narrow boxes, presumably containing wands.  More boxes were piled in corners, on desktops, and in chairs.  There was obviously quite a bit of overflow.

"Uh, you sure this place *sells* wands?  Doesn't exactly look like a thriving business," Duo cracked in his usual fashion.

"Ah, now I bet that is Master Maxwell," an old man replied, echoing Duo's joking tone, coming out from behind one of the many fully stocked shelves.  "Dumbledore told me you boys would be coming by to get your wands.  A bit late for a first wand, but don't you worry, your wands are in here somewhere just waiting for you.   Now who's first?"

Duo leapt, no longer attempting to hide his excitement.  "ME!"

"Are you sure about that Mr. Maxwell?  A moment ago you were questioning the quality of my wands…" the older gentleman mocked gently.

"Well, ah, yea, see I was just kidding.  I mean, I…" Duo stumbled over his embarrassment.  

"It's quite alright Mr. Maxwell, let's find your wand."

"You can just call me Duo, and how is it you *know* my name?  Especially when I don't know yours,"  Duo asked, quickly forgetting his blunder.

"Well, now Duo, I know your name of course I know your name, because Professor Dumbledore *told* me all of your names.  You may call me Mr. Ollivander.  Now, shall we find a wand for you?"

"Yeah!" Duo said, appeased with the vague answer, and eager to try out his new wand.  Maybe give Mr. Cranky Pants a good Zippity-Do-Da right up his…

"Let's see, how about, yes let's try this one.  Unicorn hair and oak, 7 inches.  Very good wand for starting out," he said as he passed the wand to Duo.  "Well, don't just stand there, give it a good wave."

Duo looked at Mr. Ollivander cautiously for a moment, not exactly sure what to do.  Then, deciding to just go for it, he swung the wand in a wide art.   Sparks flew out of the wand and across the room.   They bounced off the walls from one side of the shop to the other, before flying through the store's front window, shattering it.

"Oh shit.  I'm sorry Mr. Ollivander, oh man, I'll pay for that.  I mean, oh man, oh man, I am soooo sorry," Duo said  in a rush, quickly handing the wand back to Mr. Ollivander.

"Oh. Well no, that just won't do.  Let's try this one," the old gentleman suggested, handing Duo a different wand.

"Uh sir, not so sure that's such a good idea …"

"Oh goodness, don't worry a silly thing like that window, happens all the time.  It's certainly not your fault, oh no.   The wand chooses the wizard my boy, not the other way around.  Now go on and give this wand a go."  Olivander insisted.

"Um, alright." Duo mumbled reluctantly.  Not exactly sure what the old man meant by all that 'wand choosing the wizard' crap, and not really wanting to blow up any more windows, he gave the wand a delicate swing and closed his eyes in apprehension.  He waited, ready to hear something explode any second.

Nothing happened.

No explosions.

No sparks.

Nothing.

He opened his eyes, and was greeted with Mr. Ollivander's butt wiggling around as he dug through one of the piles of wands on the floor.  The elder man was mumbling under his breath, though what exactly he was saying no one could tell.  Duo looked down at the wand in his hand; apparently this one was a dud.

"Duo, you my boy are quite a unique wizard.  And for that you need quite the unique wand.  I think I have just the wand for you."

Mr. Ollivander came forward and offered Duo a thick, very black wand.

"Rare ebony wood, 8 ½ inches long, with a very rare and unique centaur hair encased inside.  One of only two wands I have ever made with centaur hair.  Centaurs aren't exactly known for their generosity.  But then Nicholas wasn't your normal centaur either.  A black sheep, you might say.  Loved attention and quite enjoyed human company too.  Very spirited, that Nicholas.  Gives the wand quite an explosive combination, that it does.  But I'm carrying on now, aren't I?  Go on.  Give it a flick."

Duo eyed the wand with mounting suspicion.  After taking it from Ollivander, it had warmed in his hand.  He was surprised how comfortable and natural it felt there.  Like a long lost family member, a feeling it didn't he would ever feel until just now.  He gave it a confident flick of his wrist.

It glowed for a moment.  Duo thought he might have heard bells, like stars chattering amongst each other.  

"Ah yes, perfect!  Will be a very good wand for potions, if you have the penchant for that."  

Snape glowered from his position in the corner, but said nothing.

Unaware of the mortal enemy he was making out of the Potions Master, Ollivander continued, "Should have seen it right away.  Devilish prankster that you are, just like Nicholas.  Mind you don't go blowing up the potions lab like … well anyways, might have known you boys would be special.  Who do we have next?"

Quatre walked forward.  He was just as excited as Duo, but in a more subdued, awe-filled sort of way. 

"Ah yes, Mr. Winner."

"Quatre, please."  
  


"Yes, Quatre.  Well, let's see if we can find your wand…"  Olivander trailed off as he walked around the shop pulling out boxes here and there.  He brought a short stack over and handed the top one to Quatre.  "Let's try this phoenix feather and willow.  Go on, try it."

Quatre took the wand and looked at it for a moment before flicking it with his wrist just as Duo had with his.  As soon as he did an entire shelf of boxes fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

"Oh dear, I am very sorry Mr. Ollivander, let me …" Quatre apologized, moving to clean the mess up.

"No, no, don't worry about that.  Now here give this one a try."  He said handed Quatre a different wand.  "That one is unicorn and maple.  I'm sure…"

But Mr. Ollivander was interrupted by the sparks and purple smoke that had come flying out of the wand when Quatre had given it a small swish.

"Ah, well, maybe not.  But close.  Let me see, no, no… ah yes, here we are."  He spoke more to himself, it seemed, than anyone in the room, as he passed Quatre yet another wand.

The wand began to warm in his hand the moment Quatre touched it, and before he could try it, there was a soft glow surrounding him and the wand.  He looked in awe at his skin, as the light seemed to come from inside him for just a moment before softly fading away.

"How obvious!  I should have known from the beginning! Seven and ½ inches of pale birch and Unicorn hair from none other than Samsonite.  Very aged and wise unicorn, that stallion was.  I was very honored to have had the pleasure of his company on more than one occasion.  Why that miniature there on your shoulder is a likeness of one of his many sons.   Makes for a very strong and balanced wand, would make for an excellent counter to divination, which of course is not the most stable of magics.  Yes, a very good match indeed.

Now who is up next?"

Trowa stepped forward as Quatre walked back to stand with the others.  He wasn't as excited as Duo or Quatre, but he knew that neither Heero nor Wufei would voluntarily go next.

"Mr. Barton, what a pleasure to meet you.  Shall we see which wand is here for you?"

Trowa merely nodded and watched as Ollivander once more moved about the small shop pulling out wands.  De ja vu.  Soon Ollivander again had a small stack of wands, and was now handing the top one to Trowa. 

"Alright.  Give this one a go.  Dragon heartstring and oak."

Trowa accepted the wand and gave it a small wave, except he was interrupted mid-arc by the front door opening and then slamming shut, very loudly.  Then the wand began to sputter out small clouds of smoke.

"I don't think this is a match sir," Trowa said good-naturedly, passing the wand back to Ollivander.

"No, no, definitely not.  Give this one a good swish," Ollivander replied, passing over another wand from the stack.

Trowa felt a small tingle course through him.  Before he could even give the wand a flick of his wrist, he knew it was the right one.  It felt right.  He gave a small graceful flick of his wrist and was rewarded with a small warm glow.

"Hmm, yet another surprise indeed, Phoenix feather and dark willow.  Eight inches long.  Not just any Phoenix feather, the feather in your wand belongs to the one and only brother of Fawkes, Dumbledore's noble companion.  Very well balanced wand.  Excellent for work in transfigurations.  Quite the intriguing match.   …now, who's next?"

Duo grabbed Heero and pushed him forward.  "C'mon Hee-chan.  It's fun!  I swear!"  Duo pleaded enthusiastically.

However, it was clear to everyone else in the room that, judging from the glare he shot at Duo, Heero was *not* convinced.

"Please, Hee-chan?"

Heero rolled his eyes and turned to Ollivander to await his fate.  As if he really could have said 'no' to the braided baka.

Ollivander's eyes seemed to twinkle knowingly as he looked at the two boys side by side.  

"Oh yes, I know *exactly* what wand to get for you.  Yes, yes, there is no doubt about it," he said as he rummaged around in the back of the shop, obviously looking for a particular wand.  After a moment[,] he turned back around, with just one box in hand and brought it over to Heero.  "I think this one will be the exact right match you" he said confidently.

Heero took the wand, looking suspiciously from Duo to Ollivander and back to the wand.

"C'mon Heero!  Give it a good swish!!"  Duo encouraged enthusiastically from his side.

Heero reluctantly swung the wand, a bit mechanically, but he gave it a swing nonetheless.  He felt it warm in his hand; the wand glowed for just the briefest of moments before returning to its normal state.

"Perfect.  Just as I thought!  *That* wand is the only other wand I made with Centaur hair.  Eight and ½ inches of nice smooth pale oak.  The centaur hair came from Jonathan, quite a quiet that one was, but boy did he create quite the scandal back in my day when he became the life long partner to Nicholas.   Odd pair those two were, to the outside world they seemed to be nothing but opposites.  But there was something there… well I'm rambling again aren't I?  It's a good wand.  Solid and patient.  You'll be able to do wonderful things in arithmancy with that wand. 

Now I believe all we have left is Mr. Chang?"

Wufei stepped forward, any reluctance he might have had was completely undetectable under the confident persona he radiated.

"Yes, let's see what we can find for you, now shall we?"

Wufei merely raised his brow and waited for the elderly man to return with his stack of choices.

"Here we go, Unicorn hair inside solid maple."

Wufei took the wand and gave it a brittle wave; a long sparkling blue ball shot out of the end of the wand and flew right at Prof. Snape, who until now had remained quiet and unnoticed.  There was a large pop and some smoke fizzled away.  And there Prof. Snape stood with two perfectly braided pigtails right behind each ear.

Duo cackled at the sight, "Oh Wu-man, that's GREAT!  Not only do you braid your future teacher's hair, but you go and turn it bright pink!  Oh gods, that's priceless!!!" he continued to cackle in near tears.  

Trowa, too, seemed to have a hard time containing his laughter.  It was not everyday that you saw our rigid fellow pilot braid and color someone's hair.   Quatre was behind Trowa, chuckling into his back, hoping not to be noticed by the professor or Wufei.  Heero wasn't laughing, but his eyes were.

Wufei's ears were tinged a very dark red as me mumbled a humble apology to the ruffled professor, who had thus far not said one word.  Snape, however, was not glaring at him, instead he was shooting daggers at Duo, who was now on the floor still cackling loudly, with tears streaming down his cheeks.  

Snape pulled out his wand and with a stiff flick of his wrist and a few mumbled words returned his hair back to its stringy, black state.

"Well that certainly won't do for a wand, now will it?  Here give this one a go," Ollivander said, going on as if nothing peculiar had just happened.

Wufei took the wand.  Still a bit embarrassed by the antics of his last wand, he gave this wand a far more subdued swing.  This time the windows and doors of the shop rattled, making the most unbearable of noises any of them had the displeasure of hearing.

"No, no, no.  That won't do at all.  Try this one," Ollivander said, shoving yet another wand into Wufei's hand.

Thoroughly disgusted with his luck thus far, Wufei gave an impatient little flick to the wand in his hand and was rewarded by a regiment of boxes flying back and forth across the room like gunfire, sending everyone to the floor for cover.

"No, no, no …"

* * *  Much later …  * * *

"Jeeze, Wufei would ya find a wand already!  This place looks like a battlefield!"  Duo whined.

Wufei glared at Duo.  As if he were purposely trying to go through every wand in the shop!

"Alright, give this one a go," Ollivander said, passing over yet another wand, not sounding one bit tired.  If anything he seemed to get happier the longer it took.

Duo groaned loudly.

Wufei gave the wand a weary swish and was rewarded with a shower of sparks and a cloud of soot to the face.

"Oh yea Wu-chan *that's* the look.  Great coverage!"

Wufei shot daggers at Duo and then looked meaningfully at Heero, making promises of death to the Wing pilot's lover if he didn't shut up. He handed the wand back to Ollivander and awaited the next sadistic torture instrument he would be given.

Ollivander wandered around the shop looking at the few boxes still left on the shelves and digging through the piles on the floor here and there.  Every once in awhile he would pick up a wand and consider it for a moment before putting it back down.

"Something rare.  Something unique."  He muttered as he went.  "Let's see.  What do I have… Oh yes!  I know!  Of course, why didn't I remember it before?  Well, of course, it's been so very long that I've had it, but still, yes, yes …" he rambled excitedly, now digging through the piles with an obvious purpose.

"There it is, almost forgot I had this wand.  For this wand has waited a very long time for its master.  Seven inches, deep red pine, and the heartstring of one of the oldest Chinese Dragons, Draconous himself.  This wand has waited many centuries my dear boy, many, many centuries," he said as he handed the wand to Wufei.  "Very strong, very *old* magic in the wand, perfect for work with the Dark Arts." He said just a bit menacingly.

Wufei watched in amazement as the wand glowed softly in his hand, not even hearing Mr. Ollivander anymore.  The soft slow warmed his hand.  The wand belonged in his hand.  It felt comfortable.  It felt right.

Mr. Ollivander watched Wufei's face as the wand claimed him as its master.  The look on his face wasn't very readable, but it seemed to be some form of surprise, or maybe satisfaction.

"Or maybe that wand has another purpose for you."  Ollivander added, now with a twinkle in his eye.  "Something different indeed."


	9. Chapter 8

A/N:  I apologize that this chapter took so long.   I still think there is something off about it, but my beta's have assured me it is perfect.  The next few chapters are going to start focusing on the HP characters since I have now given the GW characters a good introduction.  

I also have created a Forum for fans of Gundam Wing and Harry Potter.   I am really really really trying to get it launched and spread the word, so I will shamelessly plug it here and urge you to go register!  

The url is:  afallenangel.net / forum / 

Please, please go check it out and register!  It will make me so happy!!!  

------------------------------------------------  

Chapter 8

_______________________________

"Oh, dear, I think that may have been a bit too much," Hermione muttered softly.

"Yeah, well if you hadn—" Ron stopped himself mid-sentence.  It had taken awhile, but he *had* learned that insulting Hermione was *NOT* a good thing.  In fact, he had learned it was a spectacularly bad idea to insult her when she was already *in* "rant-mode".  "Let's just go find Harry."

Ron took two long purposeful strides to the compartment door and opened it.  He turned to look back, "C'mon 'Mione," and strode out the door.

Ron however, did not see the grotesquely large toad planted right outside the door.  His arms flailed wildly in a feeble attempt to prevent the inevitable.  But it was no use.  The ground was cheerfully rushing up to meet him.  He was tripping over Neville Longbottom's infamous toad.

However, in his rush to greet the floor, his body made contact with something much softer, Neville.  Not enough to stop his impending meeting with the oh-so-friendly floor, but enough to delay it by a few nanoseconds.

Those nanoseconds were to be some of the most entertaining Hermione had ever witnessed.

Neville stumbled backward.  His balance terminally damaged from years of exploding potions and fizzled spells, he was unable to recover from the wrecking ball that was Ron.  Seamus and Dean, blissfully unaware of what they were walking up to, approached, only to be sandbagged by Neville's falling body.  As they were caught unaware, they too, were forced to greet the now Gryffindor-littered floor.  All four boys were caught in a large tangle of gangly limbs and pained grunts.

Hermione watched the scene in no small amount of amusement.  She tried, quite unsuccessfully, to hide her gleeful snickering, but Ron heard her and glared from his place at the very bottom of the heap.

"Neville get your elbow out of my ear."

"Well, I would if Seamus would get his foot off my arm!"

"Oh, and how am I supposed to do that with Dean's knee on my back?"

"Would you all just shut-up and get off me!  And whoever has their hand on my ARSE better move it quick!"  Ron shouted, his face a bright tomato red.

----------------  

"You want me to stay?"

"Of course not."

"But you just said…"

"I know what I said."

"So you want me to leave?"

"No…" Draco trailed off, hating his display of weakness, but unable to resist wanting Harry to stay.  "You don't have to…"

"But you jus…"

"Look!  I know what I said!  I am just saying you don't HAVE to leave.  Do you always have to be so bloody complicated, Potter?"

Harry moved cautiously back to his seat across from Draco, a little curiosity peeking out.

"*I'm* complicated?"

"Oh just stuff it Potter!  Can't you just be quiet?"

"Fine," he agreed, laughing internally at Draco's obvious distress.

Harry looked out the window, resting his head against the cool glass.  Looking past his reflection on the shiny surface, he watched the scenery pass by with a detached interest.  His earlier thoughts quickly returned to the forefront of his mind.  Especially when the object of those thoughts was seating not little more than arms reach away.  He was a little surprised how relaxed he felt with Draco in the same room.  It was so much different from sitting with Ron and Hermione.  Draco was quiet and undisruptive, so unlike Ron and Hermione who were almost always arguing, or flirting; it was sometimes hard to tell the difference.  But if they weren't arguing, Hermione was nagging them to study, or Ron was talking his ear off about Quidditch.  Not that he really minded any of it.  He loved both of them and cherished their unique friendship.  He was finding however, that he also really enjoyed this comfortable silence with Draco.

--------------------  

"Quatre!  Did you see this place?  Look at all these pots!  What could you possibly need a pot *that* big for?"  Duo stood in front of the Cauldron Shop, oblivious to the fact everyone had stopped listening to him 5 shops back.  All save one, apparently.

"They are *cauldrons*, not pots, Mr. Maxwell.  And it is a cauldron shop, so of course they have a large supply of them.  What would you have them sell instead?  Flowers?"

"Oh really, and just what would you need a cauldron *that* size for?"  He pestered the grouch on purpose as he jogged to catch up.

"Most find it rather difficult to fit a Dragon Heart into a small cauldron for the Dragon Breath potion, to start with.  And there's also---"

"Uh yeah.  And what's Dragon Breath do?  Give a Dragon better breath?"

"Do you ever cease talking?  It cures third degree burns and allows the person to endure direct fire for very short intervals without injury.  Now will you *stop* pestering me?"

"No, and no.  What potions cure cranky potion teachers?"

"That is potion *Master*, Mr. Maxwell," Snape hissed angrily.

"Yeah, right, whatever," Duo commented distractedly.  His gaze had spotted another odd shop and he couldn't seem to persuade his feet not to wander in that direction.

A few minutes later, and several shops down …

"Hey!  Yo!  Tall, dark, and extremely ugly!  This shop sells beaks!!!!  Big old honkers!  You could sell yours for a small fortune!!!"  Duo called out loudly across the moderately crowded street.  "You'd even have some nose left to keep!"

Snape didn't get a chance to reply as Duo had disappeared again.  Undoubtably to yet another shop window.

Just a brief moment later Duo's voice could be heard howling over the other voices in the street, "Hey, Kat, no!!!  Step away from the pink robes."  Just in front of him Snape spotted Quatre standing in front of a clearance rack at the 'Robes for All Occasions' Shop.  The clearance rack had a very large assortment of bright pink robes.

 "Blue's much more you."  There was a pause.  "HEY! ... HEY!!!  Snape! C'mere!  Kat found some robes that are just *perfect* for you!  *Much* better than those rags you got on!"

Snape's glare turned cold; enough was enough.  No *student* was going to treat him with such blatant disrespect!  "Mr. Maxwell.  Your words and actions reveal that you are nothing more than a penniless, uncultured street rat.  I suggest you cease this abominable behavior immediately, lest I turn you into a *real* rat for use in an anti-stress potion."

Duo visibly flinched, as is if slapped across the face.  Heero was moving even as Snape was ending his veiled threat, putting himself in front of Duo.  In was an instinctively protective move, requiring no thought, only action.

Wufei was a half step behind Heero, coming up even with Heero's shoulders.  The two of them made a very formidable wall in front of Duo.

Trowa glared icy daggers at Snape, coming up to stand just behind Heero and Wufei.  He placed a light, restraining hand on each of their shoulders.  Not to stop them, only to make to pause them for a moment as he caught Quatre move to say something out of the corner of his eye.

"How dishonorable to threaten students in you care!"  Wufei spoke out, clearly outraged.

"Professor Snape, while intimidating your students has been effective in the past, you will find we do not scare *quite* so easily.  And if all *six* of us are going to survive the year I would recommend a serious attitude adjustment on *your* part,"  Quatre finished, his voice like steel.  Cold and inflexible.

He then turned to address his friend, though his eyes remained on Snape.  "Duo, you shouldn't torment the professors, even if they do provoke you unnecessarily.    After all, I am *sure* that they'll become more polite when they realize that we aren't easily intimidated, and are really more likely to laugh in their faces than feel threatened.  It's not *their* fault that we've all been trained to neutralize first and ask questions later.  After the first few wands--or hands--get broken, I'm sure that we'll all get along just *fine*."

-------------  

 Draco, too, was lost in his thoughts.  

He had been surprised when Harry had entered.  He had been waiting for his two goons to find him, though he didn't really want to talk to either.  He was beginning to believe his IQ dropped every time he held a conversation with them.  So, as a preemptive strike to their deteriorating presence, he had hidden in the last room of the train car.  He figured it would buy him at least a little time before they found him.

Of all the people Draco had thought might stumble in, Harry hadn't even made the list.  Of course, Harry hadn't even seen him, looking far too troubled and upset to even check if the train compartment was occupied before sitting down.  Draco couldn't stop his curiosity about what had Harry so bothered.  It was rare for Draco to have a chance to study Harry so closely, and rarer still to study such an uncommon side of Harry.  It certainly wasn't like Harry to be without his two shadows and certainly to be without them and upset both.  It was like some twisted form of jackpot for Draco.

And yet, with everything that had been on Draco's mind recently, Harry's presence should have made him uncomfortable.  It didn't, however.  In fact, he was surprisingly comforted by Harry's contemplative and quiet.  The other wizard seemed so different without his shadows around him.  And, Draco was forced to admit, he, too, was different when he was alone.  He was finding himself enjoying the companionable silence between them.  It was far better than babysitting his two goons, Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Dumber.

------------- 

"Well, gentlemen, traditionally new students don't get this type of warning, but in your case I believe we can bend tradition a little.

"Here at Hogwarts we have four houses:  Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.  Each house has it's own set of ideals and characteristics that set it apart from the other Houses.  Because of this, it is important that we place you in the House that best suits your personality.

"Long ago, the founders of this school developed a way for students to be sorted long after the four of them passed away.  This hat belongs to one of those founders.  Inside this hat is everything it needs to know in order to place you into your correct House.  The hat evaluates your character, not your memories, and sorts you accordingly.

"Let me stress to you, it does *not* look into your memories.  It merely evaluates your strengths and weaknesses, your inclinations in a given situation, and then chooses the House that is best suited for you.

"Each of you needs to take a turn wearing the hat."

All of the pilots were quiet, each lost in their own thoughts concerning the hat.  None of them liked the idea of *anything* inside their heads, no matter how innocent.

Quatre eyed the hat skeptically, but saw that no one else would be going first.  He reluctantly sat forward and removed the hat from Dumbledore's desk, placing it on his head.

"Oh, hello there!  Ah yes, you are the clear-headed one aren't you?" a voice whispered into his head.

Whatever Quatre might have expected, the hat talking in his head was not it.  Yet even in his shock Quatre could felt no malice in the gentle questing inside his head.  If anything it was quite friendly.

"Oh, yes, yes, you *are* clever!  But so *loyal*…. And my, you've the patience of a saint…" The Sorting Hat whispered gleefully.

  "Hufflepuff!" it announced loudly.

Feeling the presence slip from his head, Quatre removed the hat and placed it back on the desk.

"The hat speaks," Quatre announced to his fellow pilots, knowing they would not take the shock as well as he had.  They did not possess his ability to sense the hat's intentions.

"It SPEAKS!?"  Duo balked.  "No way.  No hats inside my head!"

Quatre ignored Duo's protests for the moment and turned to look at Trowa.  Speaking to Trowa, but loud enough for the others to hear, he said "I felt it, Trowa, I promise that it is safe."

Trowa nodded once.  Quatre would not lie to him.  And besides that, he trusted Quatre's senses, they had saved all of them more than once during the wars.  He reached out and picked up the hat.  Following Quatre's example, he placed it on his head.

"Hmm--- yes.  …  Oh no, dear boy, don't be frightened.  I mean you no harm."  The voice was soft in his head, and surprisingly unobtrusive.

"Ah see there, I know just where you go!"  The voiced called out merrily inside his head.  

"It's Hufflepuff!" it cried out enthusiastically.

Trowa promptly removed the hat and placed it back on the Headmaster's desk.  Quatre reached over and took one of his hands.  It was a comfort Trowa had learned to cherish.

Trowa sat back, a moment passed and no one made a move.  He turned and raised one graceful eyebrow as he looked directly at Heero.

Heero glared back.

Trowa looked back at Heero's glare blandly.

Heero's glare darkened.

Trowa's head seemed to cock just ever so slightly to the right as he raised his brow once more, not breaking eye contact with the former Wing pilot.

Heero furrowed his eyebrows together, a clear sign of frustration.

Trowa merely shrugged.

Heero glared pointedly.  "Hn."

"Oi!  You two and your silent conversations!!!" Duo whined, his tone teasing.

Quatre suppressed an amused snicker, which managed to escape as a snort; Wufei merely crossed his arms and looked off to the side.  There was a suspicious glimmer in his eye that passed far too quickly. 

Heero ignored his friends and took the Sorting Hat from the desk.  Clearly disgruntled, he begrudgingly placed the hat on his head.

No sooner had he done so then the Sorting Hat bellowed, "Better make it Gryffindor!"

Heero immediately returned the Sorting Hat to Dumbledore's desk, who seemed to be smiling at them far too knowingly for his tastes.

Wufei had the greatest respect for Heero.  Of course, he highly respected all of his fellow pilots and friends; though he would probably die before ever admitting it.  But his respect for Heero was different.  Not because he had saved the world, how absurd was that?  They had all played their part in that, for better or worse.  Wufei respected Heero for his ability to so easily follow his emotions.  Not that the common person saw them, but Wufei did.  He wished that he could allow himself to follow his own emotions as easily as Heero seemed to follow his.

If Heero could wear the hat, so would he.  He reached out and picked the hat up, setting it on his head.

"Interesting, interesting… what a spectacular mind, Yes, no doubt---- RAVENCLAW!"

Wufei promptly returned the hat to the desk, his face unreadable as always.

"Well glad that's over, what's next Dumpiedore?"

"You haven't been sorted yet Duo." Quatre said tiredly, already sensing Duo's unreasonable protest.

"Naw, no need, they can just bunk me with Heero, ya know?"

"It doesn't work that way Duo.  You have you *wear* the hat and be *sorted*."

"Are you sure about that?  I mean, couldn't I just tell the hat about myself and it could decide that way?"

Quatre didn't get a chance to respond because Heero leaned over and whispered something into Duo's ear.

"You know that J never gave me a choice when it came to being loyal to him.  You have always given me that choice.  And I will *always* choose you.  No matter what is in your past.  Nothing can or will ever change that.  Now put on the hat."  Heero's breath flickered gently over Duo's ear as he spoke, his lips brushed softly over the edges of his ear.  It was exactly the comforting Duo needed.

------------- 

Hermione was still laughing a few moments later as she and Ron walked through the train cars looking for Harry.  

"It *wasn't* that bloody funny 'Mione!"  
  


"Oh yes it was!  It took you ten minutes to get out from under them!"

Ron glowered, but wisely held his tongue.

They hadn't found Harry yet.  Neither Neville, Dean, nor Seamus had seen Harry or which way he headed.  Hermione, in typical Hermione fashion, reasoned that it was much more logical for Harry to take a walk to the front of the train than the back so they were currently in that direction.  

"Now, Ron—"

"Oh, no."  Ron knew that look.  That look was dangerous.  Deadly given the situation.  That look was Hermione's I-am-going-to-lecture-and-you're-going-to-listen look.  It almost always meant that he had done something wrong.  Really *wrong*.

"I think you should have listened to Harry when—"

"But I did listen…"

"No you stopped listening the moment Harry said 'Malfoy'."

"Malfoy is a no good, slimy, gi---"

"Ron!  You're doing it again!  Your not even listening to me!"

"I—"

"No, Ron.  You listen.  Harry does not control his dreams and you *know* that.  He was trying to get our help with his *problem* and you were too busy rambling about what a git Malfoy is."

"Well he…"

"That may be, but did you listen at all?  Harry said that Malfoy *helped* him…"

"Why the hell would he do that?"

"That's what we don't know.  But don't you think it's better to find out than to ramble on about the sliminess of Malfoy?"

"Well…"

"C'mon, we have to head back, we're almost to Hogwarts."


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Harry was thinking about Draco.  Really, how could he not, when the boy in question was sitting directly across from him?  In fact, they had been sitting in companionable silence for nearly an hour.

Harry had started out just trying to clear his thoughts of his recent, quite disturbing, dreams.  Dreams which featured the blond Slytherin who sat not more than a meter in front of him.  But Harry had found that somewhere in the last hour, his thoughts had drifted from his dream Draco to the live one.

The last 15 minutes or so, Harry had been discreetly watching his longtime school rival.  It seemed that Draco was also lost in some inner conflict.  What stunned Harry was that he had the distinct impression that he, himself, was the focus of Draco's inner turmoil.  The sidelong glances in his direction were a dead give away.

At this point Harry had several choices.  He could completely ignore it, whatever it was, and pretend that none of this was happening.  He could also wait and finish talking this over with Hermione and Ron.

Harry cringed, remembering Ron's reaction that had caused him to leave the compartment in the first place.

Or, he could fall back on his Gryffindor courage (or stupidity, depending on how you looked at it) and just confront him now.

Harry frowned, deep in thought.

It was just Draco, no Crabbe or Goyle…

Then again, they could show up any minute…

And of course, Ron and 'Mione were probably looking for him as well…

But then, he might never get another chance…

"Why aren't you being such a bloody git?" Harry blurted out, suddenly shattering the perfect silence.

Draco visibly jumped at the outburst.

Surprise, confusion, and fear rippled swiftly across the blond's face.

Draco scared?  But it was gone in an instant.

"Whatever do you mean?"  Draco responded with a sneer that was obviously forced and insincere.

Harry pondered that 'forced' sneer for a moment, "I think you know exactly what I mean."

Draco stared at Harry; his internal conflict warring violently across his face, but yet still almost too subtle to notice.  Harry realized that most people would have never seen it.  To them it would have been Malfoy's normal expressionless mask, but years of bickering with his schoolmate had taught him to read Draco's face perfectly.  What should have been disturbing news was more of a surprise.  A surprise that seemed to leave a warm, fuzzy feeling somewhere inside him.  

Harry decided he had nothing to lose by charging forward, he *had* been placed in Gryffindor after all, "So why *aren't* you being a git anymore… _Draco_?"

Draco's face and eyes shot up, as if pricked by an invisible pin.  They had never used each other's first names, ever.  Draco seemed to bring his inner debate to a close, making his decision with severe finality.

_"Ever wake up, … Harry, and realize everything you thought you knew, wasn't really true?"_

But Harry was interrupted before he could open his mouth to respond.

"Attention students, we will be arriving in 15 minutes.  Please prepare yourselves for arrival."

Harry looked at Draco.

Draco watched Harry.

"I should…"

"Yes, I suppose…"

"It was…"

"Odd."  They both finished at the same time.  Both caught the other's eye and cracked a grin, a grin that would have been invisible to anyone else.

Harry stood up and quickly left.  He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he found himself very glad it had.

He managed to slip back into his compartment before Ron and 'Mione returned.

-------------------- 

Ron and Hermione reached the compartment just moments after Harry had.  They were, needless to say, quite surprised, to see Harry already there.

"Where the bloody 'ell did you come from Harry?  We just searched the whole train!"  Ron blurted out the very moment he spotted Harry seated inside.

Hermione, much more in control of her surprise than Ron merely pursed her lips together and took the seat directly in front of Harry.

"Harry, we're really sorry for upsetting you earlier, we were *only* trying to help.  Well… *I* was, Ron-"

"I was being an arse."  Ron interrupted.

Hermione and Harry both looked up at Ron in shock.

"I don't like Malfoy.  In fact, I hate him, despise him, loathe him.  But I was being an arse for letting the mention of his name get in the way of what you were trying to tell us."

"Ron…" Harry started.

"Let me finish," Ron said cutting him off.  "If you think that Malfoy might play some part in keeping you alive, well, I don't like it but I am not stupid enough to let my feelings for Malfoy get you killed.  Besides anyone helping to keep you alive can't be *all* bad."

Harry's jaw dropped.

Hermione looked like she had just been told she had aced all of her N.E.W.T.'s.  She was positively beaming from ear to ear.  

Harry managed to pick his jaw back up and use it to speak, "Ron, I don't know what role Malfoy might play, but I do think that he at least deserves the chance to show us how much he may have changed.  Let me tell you two what just happened…"

------------------- 

The Great Hall was abuzz with friendly chatter.  All the returning students enjoyed this time prior to the first years' arrival, using it to catch up on friendships and summer adventures.

The chatter was something of a dull roar considering nearly all 400 students were talking at once.  All 400 voices rose to an excited pitch, trying to out-boast another with tales of summer escapades.  

Which was why it took three tries for Dumbledore to get everyone's attention, once he did, he was faced with several hundred, very confused, faces.

"Attention everyone, I realize this is a bit unusual, but I have a quick announcement before we bring the first years in to be sorted.  This year we have started a new program.  It is an 'Elective Studies' course for young witches or wizards who for one reason or another have been unable to attend school.  We have five such students joining us tonight to begin what we hope will be a very successful program.  

"These five students will be entering as 7th years, so as I bring them out would you all please make room for them at your tables."

As he spoke five young boys came from seemingly no where, somewhere unseen behind the teacher's table.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all quite sure that there had never been an entrance to the Great Hall back there before, and shrugged the odd appearance of the five boys casually.  They had long since learned that as soon as they thought they knew everything about Hogwart's, they would be confronted with proof that they didn't.  The unusual entrance of the new student's only reinforced this knowledge.

What really had Ron and Hermione's attention was Harry's stifled gasp and comment following the entrance of the new students.

"That's *them*!"

"Who?"

"The student's I saw in my dream."

"Oh my… I suppose that means it was true doesn't it?"  Hermione whispered in a tone that conveyed the seriousness of that revelation.  Before they had only speculated that it could be true.  

But Harry didn't respond, for Dumbledore had begun to speak again.

"Barton, Trowa… Hufflepuff!"

The tallest boy stepped forward, and paused as he tried to determine where he was supposed to go.

Dumbledore made a gesture in the direction of the Hufflepuff table, of whom were all still looking a bit confused.  Seeing Dumbledore's gesture in their direction seemed to prod a few 7th year's into action, and they stood up and made some room at their table.  The teenage boy, Trowa, made his way to the table gracefully and seated himself with an air of confidence.  His cool demeanor was surprising considering all eyes in the room were studying him like a potion's experiment.  There were a few greetings and welcoming pats on the back, but overall there was still a very stunned silence.

"Chang, Wufei… Ravenclaw."

Another boy stepped forward, stiffly, this one shorter, of an average height.  He had a very distinctly oriental appearance, which they would later be able to categorize as Chinese.

The 7th year Ravenclaws having a lot more time to adjust to this unusual occurrence, stood and made room, gesturing for the new student to come join them.  The serious looking teen made his way over and a small ripple of conversation raced across the hall.

However, it was quickly halted by Dumbledore's voice ringing through the air, "Maxwell, Duo … Slytherin."

A boy, who almost didn't appear to be a boy, stepped forward.  There was a very angry scowl painted across his face.  He most definitely did not look happy about something.  But even with the angry scowl his face, his features still appeared almost elfin.  He also had an impossibly long rope of hair draped carelessly over his shoulder.

At first none of the Slytherins moved, then there was a rustle of movement at the very end of the table.  Draco stood.  He made some angry, impatient gestures and both Crabbe and Goyle moved down several seats.

The boy by Dumbledore saw this and made his way over, obviously still quite upset by something.

"Winner, Quatre … Hufflepuff."

This time, in less shock, the Hufflepuffs cheered and remembered to stand.

A girl, beside the boy named Trowa, moved over kindly making room for Quatre to sit beside his friend.  Quatre, who himself was on the short side, could just barely be seen bowing to the girl and then the other students.

The Gryffindors were shuffling restlessly.  None of the new students had been sorted into their House.  They all gazed at the one boy left, however, they weren't entirely sure they wanted *him*.

He was of average height, with a messy mop of dark brown hair that rivaled Harry Potter's.  Unlike Harry however, his hair nearly completely covered his eyes.  Not that anyone was complaining about that.  The boy's eyes were currently glaring in the direction of their table.  Cold, blue steel eyes that were emitting a glare that made Professor Snape's glare look cheerful.

"Yuy, Heero … Gryffindor."

This time the hall's whispers began immediately, only the Gryffindor's remained quiet.

No one in 7th year got up.  There was a long pause before finally Harry stood, much to the surprise of Ron and Hermione.  Neville, who was on the other side of Harry and opposite Hermione, made a frightened whimper.  Harry made a gesture for Neville to move down as Heero approached the table.

When Heero finally stood before Harry, Harry held out his hand.

"Hello.  I'm Harry, Harry Potter.  Welcome to Gryffindor."

Heero looked at the outstretched hand for one pregnant moment before grasping Harry's hand.  "Hn."  And then he sat down in the spot vacated by Neville.

More might have been said, but McGonagall was bringing the first years in for the Sorting Hat Ceremony.

-------------  

As soon as Dumbledore finished his beginning of the year speeches and announced the start of the feast, the Great Hall erupted in conversation.  Everyone straining to meet the new students.  

"Shit!  Did you just see that?"  Duo burst out.  "The food just *appeared*!!!"

The entire Slytherin table turned and stared at him.  Looks that clearly stated, 'Are you stupid?'

"Whoa, tough crowd."

Draco was the first to speak, "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He said, holding his hand out.

Duo, already gnawing on a turkey leg, reached his free hand over and shook Draco's hand enthusiastically.

"MMMrph… Nice ta meet ya…" he said around a mouthful of food.  Then he suddenly stood up, turkey leg still in hand.

"Where are you going?"  Draco asked, in a mix of surprise and disapproval.

"Over there to that table," Duo said pointing in the obvious direction of the Gryffindor table.

"You can't do that!"  Draco spat out with a very visible look of disbelief and horror.

"Oh yeah?  Why not?"  Duo asked, looking at Draco with one eyebrow raised.

"Well, they're … *Gryffindors*"

"Uh, yeah, … and?"  Duo said, still not seeing the problem.

"Slytherins do *NOT* socialize with Gryffindors," Draco responded, as if stating the obvious.

"Really?  Well, now they do."  And with that Duo made his way over to the Gryffindor table.

"Yo, Heero, gimme some room bud," Duo half-crowed across the hall, coming up behind Heero.  Heero grunted, but made space, pushing Neville even farther down.  This left an opening between Heero and Harry.

"He can't sit *here*," Seamus cried out from a few seats down.  

Heero turned and gave his patent death glare to the boy that had just spoken out.  Seamus seamed to melt beneath the table under its intensity.

"Oi, you too?  And why can't I?"  Duo asked loudly, clearly annoyed.

"Y-you're a Sl-Slytherin!"  Neville choked out.

Duo looked across Heero to where Neville now sat, "And?  *Must* you remind me?"

Harry spoke up finally, "Why?  Didn't you want to be in Slytherin?"

"Hell no, I wanted to be with Heero here," he said putting an arm around Heero.  A gesture that should have been platonic appeared surprisingly intimate.

"Are you, … what I mean is, well, you know, … together?"  Hermione whispered loudly, in a conspiratory tone, across the table.

"You mean boyfriends?"  Duo asked, quickly picking up on her embarrassed interest.  "Yep, we live together back at home."  Taking note of the other embarrassed faces, Duo plowed forward, "You know, in the same bedroom, … in the same *bed*."  

Harry sprayed pumpkin juice all over Ron, who was unfortunately in front of him, and started to choke.  Quick to the draw, Duo smacked his back helpfully.

"You too, huh?"  Duo snickered.

Heero jabbed Duo in the ribs, "Shut up, baka."

"Aw, Heero, you're ruinin' my fun."

At this point, Draco had made his way over to the Gryffindor table to try and reclaim his lost housemate. 

Heero and Duo, although backs turned, seemed to notice his approach first.

"Hey there bud, wised up and decided to join me eh?"  Duo actually moved and sat in Heero's lap, much to the utter disbelief of everyone around him.

"There ya go, now there's room for ya!"  He announced happily.

The entire hall had gone completely quiet.  *Everyone* stared at the unfolding scene.

Dumbledore chuckled from his place at the Professor's Table.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 - Damn Potter  
  
--------------------------------------   
If the Great Hall was quiet before, now it was silent. Completely silent.  
  
He felt like there were a thousand tiny, invisible ants crawling over his skin. A ripple moved up his spine. He was feeling every hair on his neck move and shift in the non-existent breeze. It seemed his senses had increased a hundred fold.   
  
Through the ice-shattering silence he heard the soft 'clink' of a fork being set on one of the magical golden plates. Ravenclaw table, one of the second years. He could hear his own heart thundering in his ears. The creak of a Hufflepuff bench as a 4th year shifted uncomfortably.   
  
His lungs were suddenly too small. He couldn't take a deep enough breath. He was suffocating, drowning without water.   
  
It was a spell. A hex. Why weren't the professors helping him? Why wasn't Professor Snape rushing over and taking hundreds of points from the Gryffindors for such blatant rule breaking?!  
  
He couldn't stop staring at those deep green eyes. Normally so shaded to him, suddenly they seemed to ask a thousand questions. Why was he here? Why had he changed? *What* had changed? Was he okay?  
  
Draco snapped out of it. Concern? Concern for him? A Malfoy? Certainly not! He was a *Malfoy*. Malfoys were *not* pitied.  
  
It was like plummeting down from a cloud, his senses returned to normal. His mask lifted back in place. How long had he stood there? It felt like hours, but it must have only been minutes, maybe only seconds.   
  
He was a *Malfoy*, dammit.  
  
"What's the matter, *Potter*? There's certainly no need to catch flies in your mouth when you have perfectly good food on your table."  
  
Draco relaxed, feeling more comfortable in the familiar routine of taunts and bickering. Arguing with Harry was second nature. They would exchange insults. Things would go back to normal.  
  
But Harry didn't respond. He watched Draco. He was looking at Draco like he *knew*, like he knew all the things Draco didn't and wouldn't say. And that look changed to curiosity. Not hate. Not loathing. What the hell was wrong with him? Didn't he understand the game? Didn't he understand the rules?  
  
He couldn't change the rules mid-game.  
  
"What's the matter, ferret? Care for a bounce or two?"  
  
Draco sneered. Weasley. How dare that prat interfere?  
  
"Mind your own business, Weasel. Go back to snogging your Mudblood girlfriend."  
  
"What's the matter, Malfoy? Have you gotten so repulsive even your housemates can't stand you?" Ron spat back, gesturing at the new Slytherin student currently sitting at the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Hey now, keep me outta this. Innocent bystander, ya know?" Duo laughed it off, trying to ease the tension.  
  
"Just making sure you don't lift the silverware. Wouldn't want the schools finery being pawned off to pay for your wretched family's next meal."  
  
"Shove off, Malfoy!" Ron threatened, standing up, fists at the ready.  
  
"Whoa, whoa. Oooooooooookay. Hey, Drac, why don't you show me to where the Slytherin dorms are?"  
  
Draco turned his attention to the new Slytherin student. How had he gotten so off track? That was exactly why he came over in the first place.  
  
Damn Potter.  
  
"Yes, of course. Care to come with me?" Draco said politely, gesturing towards the door.  
  
"Alright." Duo said agreeably. He quickly turned back to Heero. "Find ya later?"  
  
"Hn."  
  
"That's my Hee-chan."  
  
^___^___^___^___^  
  
Harry watched the two walk away. What was with Draco? He had seen his mask shatter. Over what? It had only been a second, if that, but it had felt like hours looking into that panicked face.  
  
Noise in the Great Hall immediately shot up as the two passed through the doors of the Great Hall. Rumors and speculation ran wild and unchecked through all four houses. And, of course, the students gobbled it up like candy.  
  
Harry turned back and chanced a glance at their own new student. He wondered what other surprises awaited them this year.  
  
^___^___^___^___^  
  
"What was all that about back there?" Duo asked as they walked through the empty hallways.  
  
"Nothing."   
  
"Ah. Well, that certainly explains it," Duo said with a laugh. He gave Draco an assessing look that practically screamed of knowledge and secrets. Apparently, he had been more obvious than he realized. Damn.  
  
Damn Potter.  
  
"What's it like?" Duo asked, curiosity barely held in check.  
  
"What is *what* like?" Draco prompted, confused.  
  
"Doing magic!"  
  
Draco came to an abrupt halt, causing Duo to stop a step or two ahead of him. "What?!"  
  
Duo turned around, a goofy, almost childish grin in place, "Doing magic, what's it like?"  
  
Still confused, Draco asked, "You mean, you've never done magic?"  
  
"Hell no, didn't even know I could until a few hours ago. Very cool."  
  
"What about your parents? Didn't they do magic?"  
  
Without even a blink, Duo replied, "Dunno, never met them."  
  
Draco studied his new roommate. A mudblood? No. Not in Slytherin. His parents could be anyone.   
  
No parents, though… Just like Potter. His brain, ever ambitious, ran through a thousand different scenarios that made this new knowledge work to his advantage. To get closer to Harry.  
  
What?  
  
Since when did he… Damn Potter!  
  
Duo was looking at him strangely. Great. Some first impression. Losing his mind in front of his new housemate. Great. Bloody Fucking Great.  
  
"Let's go." And he walked off quickly in the direction of the dorms, not bothering to make sure Duo had followed.  
  
In a matter of minutes they were in front of what looked like a plain, normal, rather boring section of stone wall.  
  
"Is there a reason we're stopping and staring at this oh-so-very-attractive section of wall?" Duo asked, again with a laugh. Really, did this git find everything funny?  
  
"Yes. This is the entrance to the Slytherin dorms. Only Slytherins are allowed to enter. You say the password and the door opens."  
  
"Password? What password? I wasn't given a password!"   
  
Draco smirked, he really was clueless. "That's why I brought you. I am a prefect, actually Head Boy to be precise, so I *have* the password. Professor Snape owled me before school term with it," he rattled off with his trademark air of superiority.  
  
"Well, are you going to just stand there preening or are you going to let us in?" Duo commented, clearly unimpressed.  
  
Draco glared. "Snake skin."  
  
The wall moved, sliding over and revealing the Slytherin common room.  
  
"This is the common room. It's used for studying and socializing."  
  
Duo nodded absently as he looked around, taking in every detail. Draco moved across the room and down a set of stairs, Duo a few short steps behind. "Down here are the dorm rooms. To the left there are the girl's dorms. This way leads to ours."   
  
Duo took note of the layout and followed quietly behind Draco. He paid attention as they passed three doors without pause.   
  
"Those all lead to the 3rd, 2nd, and 1st year dorm rooms, respectively. This one is ours." Draco stated, opening the 4th door.   
  
They stepped through quickly, Draco pausing a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darker dorm room lighting. All of the Slytherin dorms were dimly lit. But the rooms themselves were always much darker. It allowed for more privacy, and, of course, secrecy.   
  
"Down the hall are the other dorm rooms, 6th, 5th, and 4th." Draco droned on rather mechanically, keeping an air of pompousness and disdain as he concluded the tour. He wasn't sure he liked this new student.  
  
But apparently Duo wasn't listening, as he bounded through the door and immediately headed for one of the beds.   
  
"Shi-chan!!!!!" Duo squealed as he pounced onto one of the beds, the one directly to the right of Draco's, to Draco's severe annoyance. Duo appeared to scoop something up in his hands.  
  
From his vantage point, Draco really couldn't see what it was. He desperately wanted to ignore the surge of curiosity that seemed to spring up from somewhere inside him. What the hell was wrong with him lately? Curiosity about that damn Potter, now this! Almost against his will he found himself stepping towards the bed to see what it was Duo held in his hands.  
  
Damn Potter!  
  
Duo noticed this, although how he could with his back turned away Draco would never know, and turned around holding his hand out. "Want to see?" He opened his palm to display a small, sleek, very black cat. With wings… bat wings?  
  
"Oh. My. God! Where did you get that? Do you even *know* what that *is*? Do you have any idea how *rare* that thing is?" Draco stated, unable to keep the awe and disbelief from pouring out.  
  
"Who? Shi-chan? He was a gift…"  
  
"Shee … chan? You *named* it?!"  
  
"Well, of course I named him! He really likes the name too! Don'tcha, Shi-chan?" Duo purred that last bit at the elegant feline. Shi-chan purred right back, rubbing itself along Duo's scratching finger.  
  
"*That* is a Hellcat. A miniature Hellcat, but still…"  
  
"A Hellcat? Well, that's something I don't understand. Is he like, really *real*, or ya know, just some elaborate magical wind-up toy?"  
  
"Wind-up toy?"  
  
"Yeah, ya know, toys you wind up and they move around for awhile and then they stop, and then ya gotta wind 'em up again so they start moving again." Duo rattled, or more like babbled.  
  
"Hmm… must be some muggle thing." Draco pondered before dismissing it. "It is nothing like that. *That*," Draco stated, pointing at the cat, "is very real. It was probably a figurine, which is why it is so small, and then it was enchanted and given life. Now it is as real as we are. It takes an *extremely* powerful magic to give an object life. And it can only be given a real life to something that actually exists. Which is why you so rarely see it."  
  
"Oh." Duo pondered that for a moment, "What is a Hellcat?"  
  
"I'm not exactly sure. As far as I know they are, or *were*, only fairy tale and rumor. Supposedly the first Dark Lord created them from pure magic. It's said they are very powerful and very violent. The Dark Lord used Hellcats to attack his enemies in a most gruesome fashion. But when he was finally killed the Hellcats disappeared with him and have never existed since then." Draco said with a bit of awe as he watched the apparently docile cat walk up Duo's arm to his shoulder.  
  
"Hmmm. Interesting." Duo stated, seeming not the least bit afraid of the vicious, violent cat curled up on his shoulder. "So, now what?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'now what'?" Draco countered with annoyance.   
  
"Well, now I know where the dorms are, aren't you gonna show me around?"   
  
"Like what?" Draco said, clearly annoyed, he was not this stupid git's personal tour guide!  
  
"Um, where are the Gryffindor dorms at?"   
  
"What?! How should I know?"  
  
Duo looked at Draco strangely, almost as if he were stupid. Damn, this new student was annoying!  
  
"Haven't you been at this school for like 6 years?"  
  
"Of course." Draco was not seeing the point.  
  
"And you don't know where your self proclaimed rival house sleeps?" Duo asked, clearly amused by something.  
  
"Well…" Now that he really thought about it, it certainly would be advantageous to know…  
  
"Well, c'mon," Duo said, hopping up. "Let's go find it then!"  
  
And with that, Draco found himself being forcibly dragged from his dorm room.  
^___^___^___^___^  
  
/ I can do this. It's no different from any other school. I talk with my friends all the time. I. Can. Do. This. /   
  
Heero glared at his plate. He knew he should make conversation. Damn Duo. He always made it look so easy.  
  
"Where are you from?" A girl with brown, somewhat bushy hair asked.   
  
"Japan." Stick with the facts. Don't elaborate.  
  
"Really? How fascinating! Do you speak Japanese as well?" she asked, clearly interested in asking many more questions.  
  
"Hai…" She looked at him with mild confusion, "…yes."  
  
She pursed her lips slightly for a moment. "H-hai, that means 'yes' in Japanese?"  
  
Heero nodded. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all.  
  
^___^___^___^___^  
  
Draco and Duo walked quietly down the hallways. Or rather, Draco was walking quietly, Duo was stopping every few feet to chat with the portraits. He seemed to get some warped amusement out of it.  
  
"Would you come on already? It's not like we have all night."  
  
"'kay," Duo agreed, turning back to say his farewells to the painting. "See'ya 'round, Sir Zarka" Duo made a slight, rather jester-like bow, before catching up with Draco. "This place is so cool! How can you be so stiff! Something stuck up your…" Duo's eyes drifted to Draco's backside suggestively.  
  
Draco flushed. How dare he suggest… "How dare---"  
  
"Aye, aye, don't swing that way, huh?" Duo laughed.   
  
Draco didn't know what to say. So he didn't.  
  
"Where are we going exactly?" Duo asked.  
  
"To the west wing. That's the direction the Gryffindors normally head in."  
  
Duo nodded his head in approval.   
  
They soon made their way into a room full of staircases. Looking down, Duo could see they continued for many, many floors beneath them. Looking up, they appeared to go up twice as far. Duo stood in awe, caught speechless once again.   
  
Draco grinned ever so slightly. Even with his vast knowledge of the magical world, he had been just as awed the first time he had seen all these staircases. He smirked. He'd also been given the shock of his life the first time they had moved on him.  
  
"This way," he said to Duo, starting to walk up one of the staircases. Duo, still awed, merely nodded and followed.  
  
Halfway up the stairs Draco, heard the telltale creaking of the stairs, just before they shifted. With an evil smirk, he moved to grab hold of the railing.  
  
The stairway gave a shudder and then lurched, sending Duo into an undignified heap in the middle of the staircase.  
  
"What the---"  
  
"Oh, sorry, forgot to mention. Sometimes the staircases like to move." Draco stated, as if it were of no consequence.  
  
Duo picked himself up off the floor grin, "Cool!"  
  
Draco blinked. That was not exactly the reaction he had expected. Duo just grinned at his confusion. "This place is so cool!"  
  
Draco scowled. He really didn't understand Duo at all.  
Draco moved up the last of the steps as the staircase came to a stop. He didn't get very far before he was accosted with some type of coloring potion. His entire front side was plastered in blue gooey stuff! He huffed in indignation and immediately looked around for his attacker.  
  
"Peeves!" he yelled angrily at the guilty poltergeist hovering a few feet away and several feet up in the air, hands still full of colored balloons.  
  
"BuWAhahahaHAHAahahaaHA!" Duo cackled from behind him. "A paintball!"  
  
"A what?"  
  
"A paintball! Oh, gods, haven't seen one of those in ages. Haven't USED one in forever!" Duo chuckled, still highly amused.  
  
Draco turned back to Peeves, twice as angry as before. Now he had been laughed at. "You!" he yelled.   
  
Duo, who was finally noticing the cause of his extreme amusement and Draco's fury let out a rather girly, if not completely undignified, shriek. "A GHOST!"  
  
Draco turned back around, eyebrow quirked ever so slightly, "No, a poltergeist, there's a difference. This one is particularly annoying."  
  
"This *one*? There's more than one?!"  
  
"Yes, but Peeves," gesturing to the pale, nearly transparent figure in front of them, "is the worst."  
  
"I'm offended!" Peeves stated, in an overly pompous tone, complete with upturned nose and dramatic turnabout, before drifting off down the hall, most likely to attack some other, unsuspecting students.  
  
"Stupid git." Draco grumbled before murmuring a cleaning spell, which, of course, prompted Duo to glomp him, much to Draco's horror.   
  
Duo tugged at his robes, inspecting the now clean material. "Oh, soooooooo cool! I want to do that! When do I learn that? No more laundry days for me!!"   
  
Draco shoved Duo off him. "Good lord, don't you have any manners? It's a rather simple spell. I am sure you'll learn it sooner rather than later. " Draco paused as if accessing Duo, which in fact he was. "Then again…"  
  
He decided to leave off the insult. No point ruffling the new student's feathers this early.  
  
Duo, it seemed, just ignored his comment altogether and went back to his annoying, stupid little questions. "So these ghosts---poltergeists, are all over the school?"  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes."   
  
"Would one of them know where the Gryffindor dorms are?" Duo asked with a grin.  
  
Draco turned to Duo, previous annoyance forgotten. "Yes," he said with a conspiratorial grin. "They would."  
  
^___^___^___^___^  
  
Harry watched as Hermione grilled their new student. Languages weren't part of the Hogwarts curriculum. So, of course, Hermione, excited to supplement this gap in her education, was trying to make up for lost time. Unfortunately, she was trying to do it all in one dinner.  
  
Harry decided to rescue Heero before Hermione completely alienated him.  
  
"Enough 'Mione. Let him eat already." Harry interrupted, flashing a friendly grin at the new student.  
  
Heero didn't grin back, but something akin to relief and gratitude reflected in his eyes as he nodded ever so slightly in acknowledgement.  
  
Harry turned back to Hermione. "Really, 'Mione, did you ever even stop to introduce yourself?"  
  
"OhMYGosh!" she exclaimed, face flushed with embarrassment. She turned back to Heero with her hand held out. "Hermione Granger, pleasure to meet you."  
  
"Hn. Heero."  
  
^___^___^___^___^  
  
"This is it."  
  
"Thank you, Baron." Draco said, even as the Slytherin House ghost floated away.  
  
Duo and Draco eyed the portrait from their vantage point, several yards away. The portrait of the Fat Lady was barely visible. No point getting caught, now that they were this close.  
  
"Okay, so now what do we do?" Draco asked, not exactly sure what the braided boy had in mind.   
  
"Hmm. Well, obviously we want to get inside, right?" Duo stated, as much to himself as to Draco.  
  
"Well, she's not going to let us in without the password." Draco replied, gesturing at the Fat Lady.  
  
"Hmm…" Duo seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Wait here."  
  
Draco watched as Duo strolled up to the Fat Lady. What was he doing?! Duo stopped in front of the portrait and… Draco could *not* believe it! He was *talking* to her! Just like before! What was the stupid git's obsession with talking to portraits?! Draco couldn't believe they wasted all this time so that Duo could have a chat with the portrait!  
  
Was the Fat Lady blushing?  
  
What was Duo telling her?  
  
Draco watched and Duo made some gestures with his hands, now the Fat Lady was laughing! Draco watched as Duo continued talking and making gestures. Obviously, it was some outlandish story.   
  
Draco took a closer look at the Fat Lady. She was blushing!!!   
  
And she was opening the door!!!!  
  
Duo waved at Draco to come over. Draco walked over, and the two of them walked into the Gryffindor common room without so much as a fuss.  
  
"How did you do that?"   
  
Duo grinned, and then winked at Draco.  
  
He flirted! He flirted with the portrait! Brilliant! Truly Brilliant.  
  
Draco made a slight bow of his head, acknowledging the excellent tactic.  
  
Duo just grinned.  
  
"Okay so what now? We destroy it, right?" Draco stated, with no small amount of glee at the very thought. Finally, payback.  
  
"Oh no! Of course not!" Duo said. "Too obvious, remember? We were the first ones to leave dinner. Much too obvious!" Duo stated with a very wicked grin on his face. "This is strictly recon."   
  
"Re-con?"  
  
"Information gathering! How can you possibly have waged this supposed House War of yours without an intimate knowledge of its inner workings? Hmmpphhfff! Amateur!"  
  
"Excuse me!" Draco said with indignation, how dare---  
  
"C'mon! You can pout later. Let's check out the rooms."  
  
They crept up the stairs and first tried the rooms on the right. "No good. Girls rooms." They went back across and tried the rooms on the left. They checked every door they passed. Duo was obviously looking for something specific. Although what exactly Draco wasn't sure. On the 4th door he found out.  
  
"Ah-ha!"   
  
Duo walked all the way into the dark room. The House elves hadn't started a fire yet, probably because the Gryffindors were all still at dinner.  
  
"How can you tell?" Draco was still not sure what Duo was looking for, and this room looked the same as all the others. None of the students had been up to unpack, so it was impossible to tell whose bed was whose.  
  
Duo point to a bed, but Draco still didn't see. He scowled and shook his head ever so slightly, indicating he still didn't see whatever it was Duo saw.  
  
"That trunk doesn't have a name, the others do. So that must be Heero's trunk since ours are on loan from the school and wouldn't have names on them. Plus if you look closely you can see his wolf laying there just behind the pillow.  
  
Draco fought the urge to gape. How had he taken all that in, in a matter of seconds? In a dark room! He reassessed the other boy. There was a lot more to him than Draco first thought.  
  
It might be nice having a real friend, an intelligent one.  
  
^___^___^___^___^  
  
"Do you want to walk with us back to the dorms?" Harry asked Heero. "It's a bit early but it will give us some time to settle in."   
  
Heero nodded. He still wasn't completely comfortable with conversation. Especially with strangers. He also realized he would be living with these people for several months. He'd better get used to it.   
  
The four got up, Ron grabbing one last cupcake and shoving it in his mouth, before heading to the door.   
  
Heero created a mental map as they walked. He wouldn't get lost.  
  
"So…" Harry wasn't sure how to start a conversation, it was obvious Heero wasn't much of a talker, but he didn't want him to feel isolated either. "Where did you practice magic before here?"  
  
"Didn't."  
  
Hermione gasped, "You haven't practiced magic before? And they put you in 7th year?"  
  
"Hai."  
  
"Well, how do they expect you to keep up? That's ridiculous! You can't learn 6 years worth of magic in just one!"  
  
"Hn. Dumbledore told us we would be in a separate tutorial for the first 3 weeks before joining the regular classes."  
  
"Still! You can't possibly learn everything you need to know in 3 weeks!"  
  
Heero shrugged, not exactly sure how much he should say. Dumbledore hadn't been very clear about why they were here and Heero was pretty sure it wasn't to get a magical education.  
  
^___^___^___^___^  
  
Duo ran and flopped onto his bed, Shi-chan flying off his shoulder and into the pillow beside his head. "That was great!"   
  
Draco grinned; it had been fun. It felt odd, but he had liked it. He fell onto his bed, still grinning.  
  
"So…" Duo started.  
  
"So?" Draco asked.  
  
"Gonna tell me what that scene at dinner was all about now?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
"Just Potter and his fan club."  
  
"The boy with glasses?"  
  
"Exactly, Harry-fucking-Potter."  
  
"Fan club?"  
  
"You don't know who Harry Potter is?" Draco sat up and looked at Duo, how could anyone not know?  
  
"Nope. Not a clue. Never met him before in my life." Duo said, not bothering to sit up.   
  
"Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort… well mostly. Harry Potter, everyone's hero."  
  
"Except yours?"  
  
"No! I don't need Harry Potter! Stupid git!"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
Draco glared. Duo was being annoying again.  
  
"Why do you hate him so much?"  
  
"Because…" Why did he hate Harry Potter?  
  
"Not a real solid reason."  
  
"Well… it's a long story."  
  
"I'm not tired, are you?"  
  
"Fine. It starts when Harry was hit with the Avada Kedavra curse…"  
  
^___^___^___^___^  
  
"So let me get this straight. You and the rest of the Slytherins *hate* Gryffindor because they are the ones that have always been against this Voldie guy, who came from Slytherin. This Voldie is a nasty little shit that thinks all muggles and mudbloods should die, yet he's a mudblood himself? And somehow, no one knows how, Harry managed to cripple this really powerful creepy shit when he was still in diapers. And now, Harry is in Gryffindor, so you basically hate him on general principle?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And *you* don't even know if you really agree with this Voldie guy anymore, you just pick on Gryffindors because you always have?"  
  
"Um…"  
  
"And you have a crush on this Potter?"  
  
"WHAT?!?! NO! I do NOT like Harry!"  
  
"Harry, huh?'  
  
"Potter, I meant Potter! Why would I like him?!"  
  
"Because he has gorgeous green eyes?"  
  
"He does not…"  
  
"Sexy, fresh out of bed, ruffled hair."  
  
"His hair is *not* sexy!"  
  
"Puny, rather wimpy build…"  
  
"It is not puny! It's lean and muscular!"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Bloody hell."  
  
Damn Potter.  
^___^___^___^___^___^___^___^___^___^___^___^___^  
  
  



End file.
